#Pet First Aid Kit
Text
Pet First Aid | Items To Have In Pets First-Aid Kit
Even if you already have a Pet First Aid, now might be a good time to make sure the supplies haven’t expired or run out.
You never know what’ll happen when it comes to accidents and emergencies, so it’s good to be prepared. When you’re camping, driving across the country, or facing a natural disaster, you need to be ready.
Always be sure to familiarize yourself with pet emergency clinics in your area (and anywhere you frequently travel), and identify apps or websites you can consult in case of an emergency.
To know what Essential Items To Have In Pets First-Aid Kit. Read our Blog!
0 notes
Text
IMPORTANT REMINDER TO MY EUROPEAN FOLLOWERS AND OTHER TUMBLR DENIZENS FROM AN AMERICAN DESERT-DWELLER:
Climate change is a bitch and summer is coming. If you don’t already have an air conditioner and/or fans, NOW is the time to get them.
THINGS YOU SHOULD BE SHOPPING FOR NOW:
—clothes made of cotton or linen
—air conditioner
—fans
—frozen meals that can be cooked in the microwave
—potable bottled water; you want five days’ worth per person and pet in your household
—bottled fruit juices; it does not matter if these are sugar-added because you’ll want the electrolytes
—electrolyte drinks
—electrolyte pills (you can get these online, I get mine from Amazon)
—popsicle molds to use with fruit and juice
—ice cube trays
—nonperishable salty snacks like peanuts
—one charger brick per adult in case of rolling blackouts or power outages; charge these at the beginning of May, and drain them via use once a month if they’re not needed
YOUR TO-DO LIST:
—check your home’s HVAC system if you didn’t do it at the beginning of winter. Make sure all the filters are clean and replace them if needed
—check the seals on your sinks and bathtub in case you have to run water to handle shortages
—make and freeze meals you can cook in the microwave or simply defrost. Remember to select light summer fare, not hearty winter soups and gravies
—purchase and freeze lunch meats and cheeses you can defrost and use this summer for sandwiches when it’s hot
—assemble your check-in list: elderly, pregnant, disabled, and immunocompromised friends and relatives who may struggle to get things they need when the heat wave hits. Have this list posted and ready to go through daily once the heat gets high. DON’T JUST ASSUME YOU WILL REMEMBER. WRITE IT ALL DOWN.
—create a list of emergency contacts in case of fire, heat stroke, and other heat-related emergencies. This should include your local version of 911 (I think in most of Europe it’s 112, but don’t rely on me as an American, LOOK IT UP NOW before you need it), your doctor’s phone number, and two emergency contacts. Keep it in a place where it can be easily found if someone needs to make these calls on your behalf.
—ask your doctor for an additional prescription for any medications you take, and fill it now. Extreme heat can cause disruptions in the supply chain. Make sure you cycle these meds; that’s to say, always use your oldest bottle first so you don’t end up with expired meds in an emergency.
—stock your first-aid kit. If you don’t have one, now is a good time to make one.
—if you own a car, get your yearly maintenance done now. You don’t want to be dealing with an inoperable vehicle if you need to evacuate.
Staying safe this summer starts now. Get your prep done.
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
The evacuation prep poster is done! This poster is designed primarily with wildfires in mind, but the tips can apply to preparing for any much any disaster.
If you share this image outside of tumblr, please link back to my website: www.Katy-L-Wood.com
[[Image ID: A poster including a layered graphic showing what items to have ready to prepare for evacuating your home based on how much warning you have that you need to evacuate. The inner, red, level is labeled "No Warning." The next, orange, level is labeled "Less Than an Hour." The next, yellow, level is labeled "More Than an Hour." The final, green, level is labeled "General Preparedness." The items associated with each level and the text are included below. /end ID.]]
----------
Evacuation Prep:
As the world changes, it is important to be prepared to safely and efficiently evacuate your home, potentially with little or no warning. Preparing ahead of time can help to reduce stress and anxiety, and help you evacuate safely if the time comes.
Red Level (No Warning): People | Pets | Keys. Human life matters most. If you can't rescue your pets, let them out to give them their best chance. If evacuating by car, don't forget your keys.
Orange Level (Less Than an Hour): Crucial Meds | Important Papers | Money | Paper Map | Pet Vaccination Records. Crucial meds and medical equipment. Papers including passports, birth certificates, medical records, etc.. Multiple forms of payment. Paper map with marked evac routes in case of signal loss. Phone. Most evac centers require vaccine records for pets to be allowed in.
Yellow Level (More Than an Hour): Photos | Hard Drives | Computers | Chargers | Irreplaceable Items | OTC Meds | Pet Supplies | Pet Food | Clothes | Weather Gear. Family photos. Hard drives and computers. Make digital backups ahead of time. Charging cords. Irreplaceable items such as collectibles and mementos. Over the counter medical supplies such as Aspirin and tampons. Pet supplies such as bowls, crates, toys, and litter. Pet food and treats. Clothes. If you are running out of time grab your laundry basket. Weather gear if needed.
Green Level (General Preparedness): Food | Water | Radio | N95 Masks | Multitool | Power Pack | Gas | Stove + Fuel | Flashlight | Toiletries | Emergency Contact Info | Bedding | First Aid | Can Opener. Easy prep, shelf-stable food. Water. Battery powered/rechargeable NOAA weather radio. N95 masks for smoke. A multitool. Rechargeable power pack for phones. Keep your car at least partially fueled at all times. Portable stove and fuel for cooking food without power. Flashlight and spare batteries. Toiletries including hair products, toothbrush and paste, etc.. Emergency contact info for friends and loved ones. Spare pillows and blankets. Dedicated first aid kit. Can opener.
Save yourself time and stress by preparing an evacuation bag ahead of time and keep it in an easy to access place. At the end of every season rotate out the perishable items within such as food, water, and medications. The more you can keep in the bag, the more time you'll have to grab everything else. Remember, it is okay if you can't do everything. Some preparation is better than no preparation.
If you are in the U.S.A. and experiencing disaster related anxiety call the Disaster Distress Hotline at 1-800-985-5990 for support and resources.
----------
If you share this image outside of tumblr, please link back to my website: www.Katy-L-Wood.comf
#Natural Disasters#Wildfire#Survival#Survival Tips#Wildfire Evacuation#Evacuation Tips#Survival Tips Poster#My Art#Original Art#Graphic Design
47K notes
·
View notes
Text
Valentine's day with Pathetic!Simon
You should've known Johnny had been serious when he talked to you that morning.
"LT's never had anyone to gift fer Valentine's. Just...let him give ye the flowers 'n accept the chocolates, aye?"
Simon stood in front of you, pinning you in place with his beady gaze, a bouquet of red roses in his clenched fist.
The ends of them look torn. You really hope he didn't just rip these off of someone's front yard.
He interrupts your inner musings by forcefully presenting them to you— velvet petals brushing your lips, causing you to jerk your head back slightly.
Allllrighty then.
Tenderly, you raise your hands and grab them— encircling the base of the rose just above his hold.
"Thank you for these, Simon. They're very beautiful," you croon. His delivery might be awkward, but you truly are grateful for them. Every individual rose is pristine, colours vibrant, stems strong and firm— not a brown petal nor wilted leaf in sight.
They're perfect.
Until your fingers are pricked by something pointed.
What?
You let go quickly and turn your hands up to inspect them. Sure enough, there's blood beading up on some of your fingertips, and the soft flesh of your palms.
And you grab Simon's wrist to lift the bouquet to eye level.
Thorns.
They're everywhere, and Simon's knuckles are white from how tight he's holding the roses.
"Jesus! Simon! You've got to be kidding me! Put them down!" As you let him go, you quickly spin around to fetch your first aid kit, but a forceful grip on your shoulder stops you in your tracks and spins you right back around.
"Just get a vase for them," he rumbles.
In disbelief, you protest, "What? No! You need—" but he swiftly interrupts you, his grip on your shoulder tightening marginally.
"What I need is f'you to get a vase." His firm response is resolute.
"O-okay, I...I er, got a few under the sink." With a silent stride, Simon stays close behind you, his hand that had touched your shoulder now curling around the back of your neck— only letting go when you reach for the sink base.
Placing it on the countertop, you ask him if he would now put them down.
"No. Fill it with water."
Simon nods when you do as he says, then drops them inside the vase— and you can't look away as red furls inside the once-clear water, turning it pink.
He clears his throat, catching your attention, and when you turn to face him, Simon's handing you something else.
It's a flattened snickers bar. You can see caramel peeking out from one corner, and the wrapper is streaked with some of his blood.
Delicately, you grab it with your thumb and index by the sticky edges and place it on a paper towel.
"How did you know that snickers are my favorite?" Simon doesn't answer, only looks at you unnervingly expectantly.
Right. Let him give me the flowers and chocolate.
"Thank you so much for all of this, Simon. Happy Valentine's Day."
He lets out a deep sigh (of relief?) and opens long arms. You walk up to him, wrap your arms around his waist— the side of your head flat on his broad chest— and let out an undignified squawk when you feel your spine pop as he returns the hug.
You blatantly ignore the bulge firmly pressing itself into the soft flesh of your lower stomach, and definitely don't think about how large it feels.
"Happy Valentine's Day, pet."
Later, Johnny laughs so hard that he cries when he sees the rust-colored streaks of blood on the Snickers wrapper.
"Simon's an intense man, what can ah say?"
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#cod mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#ghoap x reader#simon riley x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#pathetic!simon
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
NEED to know what happens after butcher!Simon beat the guy to pulp 😭 Does reader ends up insisting to tend his split and bloody knuckles hence bringing him into her apartment and Simon just decides that it's his second home now. Cause wdym it's not? She practically invited him in?? He's her problem now, like a stray.
“and Simon just decides that it’s his second home now / he’s her problem now, like a stray”
OHHHHH MY GOD????? SO FUCKING TRUE ANON!!!
-
When the pounding had petered out, you weren’t allowed to leave your flat. Simon’s parlance held an undercurrent of finality, so you listened. Listened to the soft rustling and thudding on the other side of your door, the grunts of labour let out by him. And when he was done, when only a crude, mulberry outline of blood coagulated into the carpet outside of his flat, you called him inside.
You decided to refrain from asking any questions.
You just seated Simon at your dining table—which he seemed to giant—and brought out the first-aid kit from under your sink. The mellow, winking light of your kitchen flutters over the split skin of Simon’s knuckles as you clean them out. He doesn’t wince and doesn’t flinch. The only reason his fingers twitch is to curl them further into your palm, stealing your warmth.
The silence is snapped with your quiet question. “What if someone reports you?”
“They won’t, Trouble,” Simon mumbles. “They know who I am.”
Your deluged brain catches onto only one word. Lazy and heavy how it slips past Simon’s lips, pools into his mask. Your eyes flicker up, skittish. “Trouble?”
“Seem to bring it with ya,” he shrugs. Simon leans back in your chair, the fleeceback of his trackies tightening around his thick thighs. “Fitting, innit?”
A sound—somewhere between sheepish and bemused—peals out of you. It’s parroted by Simon, taking the form of an almost-chuckle, but is quickly succeeded by a sharp wince. His face twisting like the tail of a kite, his eyes squeezing shut.
“Simon?”
He grunts. His crystalline curls stiffly sway as he shakes his head. “Fucker punched me. Landed on my lip.”
It’s an undertaken desire that tells you to lean forward and unhook Simon’s mask off his ear. You have the inkling he’ll maul you if you try, but truthfully, you know that Simon won’t bite the hand that feeds him.
He’s pliant and malleable under your touch. Almost kittening into your palm, an obedient dog as you loosen Simon’s mask from his chin, letting it dangle from his cauliflower ear—a materialisation of his dubious past—and brush against his jaw.
A hint of fear ephemerally colours Simon’s eyes. He’s naked, bare, under your gaze. A confessor at the feet of an apostle, praying for proclaimed absolution. Hoping you’ll overlook his scars and dimpled skin, hoping you’ll take him in for the stray he is.
You reach out, grazing Simon’s face. Raising a cotton wad to his busted, thin lips. It permeates the elements of a kiss. Your gauze against his puckered lips, soaking him up, his blood, into your bandage.
Simon’s a lost dog. He keeps coming back. Though it reads like it, it isn’t entitlement. It’s taking possession of you.
It’s simple, really. Simon just wants to be pet, and he just wants to please.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost/reader#cod mw2#simon writing#writing
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey
Can you write a one shot where Bucky and reader have a daughter. One day when reader and their little daughter are at home and Bucky is at the compound or on a mission, reader accidentally hurts herself. She says something like this to the daughter :"Don't tell daddy." But later when Bucky comes home she says something to Bucky and he immediately gets worried. And then maybe some cuddle time with the Barnes Family.
Thank you in advance 💗
Mommy Hurt » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Husband/Dad/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Daisy
Summary: Bucky gets worried when he finds out from his daughter that Y/N got hurt while he was on a mission.
Warnings: Fluff, language, small injury, brief mention of blood, hugs and kisses, cuddling, uses of nicknames/pet names
A/N: Thank you for requesting @lives-in-midgard 🩵 I had fun writing this🥰
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Yours and Bucky’s 3 year old daughter Daisy comes running in the kitchen with a piece of paper in her hands. “Look what I draw!” She says, holding the picture up for you to see.
“It’s beautiful, sweetie. Tell me about.” You say, looking down at her.
“This is daddy. This is mommy. This is Pine Pine. This is me.” She says, point to each stick figure in the picture.
You were trying your best to do the dishes and pay attention to what Daisy was saying which probably wasn’t the best idea, because the next thing you know, you felt a sharp pain in your hand. You gasped and dropped the knife you had in your other hand in the sink, clutching your hand in your other one.
“Mommy?” Daisy tapping on your leg. “What happened?” She asks, looking up at you.
“I-I’m fine, baby.” You tried your best to not cry in front of your daughter. “Mommy cut herself.” You tell her.
You slowly opened your hand to see a small cut on the palm of your hand with a little bit of blood coming out of it. You grabbed a kitchen towel that was next to the sink and put it on your hand, applying pressure.
“Mommy have a boo boo?” Daisy asks.
“Just a little one.” You say.
You crouched down to her height and gave her a hug.
“Don’t tell daddy.” You tell her.
“No tell daddy.” She says.
“Good girl.” You smiled and kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go watch cartoons in the living room and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You tell her.
“Ok, mommy!” Daisy says, running off to the living room.
You went to the bathroom and got the first aid kit out from underneath the sink. You cleaned out the cut with alcohol and wrapped some gauze around it and taped it with medical tape. You put the first aid kit away and went to the living room to see that Daisy put on Barbie. You took a seat next to her and watched it with her.
A couple days later, Bucky came home from a week long mission. Bucky frowns in confusion when he didn’t see you and Daisy greet him immediately like the two of you normally do.
“Where are my girls?” Bucky’s voice echos through the house.
Bucky heard Daisy’s little footsteps running towards him.
“Daddy!” Daisy says excitedly.
“There’s my baby girl!” Bucky says happily as he picked up Daisy.
Bucky gave her a bunch of hugs and kisses, making her giggle.
“Mommy hurt.” She tells him.
“What?” Bucky felt his heart drop, thinking that something bad happened to you while he was on the mission. “Where is mommy?” He asks her.
“Kitchen.” Daisy says, pointing towards the kitchen.
Bucky walks in the kitchen with Daisy in his arms to see you putting groceries away.
“Bucky, you’re home!” You smile widely and hugged him.
“Are you ok?” Bucky asks with worry in his voice.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked.
“Daisy told me you got hurt.” He says.
“I told her not to tell you.” You say, looking at your daughter.
“Sowwy, mommy.” Daisy says, feeling bad.
“It’s ok, sweetie.” You say, moving a piece of hair from her face.
Daisy tapped on Bucky’s shoulder, telling him that she wants down. When Bucky put her down, she ran to her play room.
“Show me.” He says.
“Babe, it’s nothing.” You say.
“Doll…” He says.
You sighed and took the gauze off of your left hand and showed him the cut on the palm of your hand that was starting to scab up. Bucky gently took your hand in his and inspected it.
“How did you cut yourself?” Bucky asks.
“I was doing the dishes while looking at a picture Daisy drew and I cut myself with a knife.” You explained.
Bucky felt relieved, knowing that you’re fine. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly, making you smile. Then he kissed you passionately.
“How about I properly patch up your hand.” Bucky says.
Bucky led you upstairs to yours and his bedroom. You took a seat on the bed while Bucky got the first aid kit from the bathroom. He came out of the bathroom and sat down next to you. He cleaned it with alcohol and wrapped it with gauze, also making sure it wasn’t too tight and tapped it with medical tape. He brought your hand up to his lips again and kissed it softly.
“Better?” Bucky asks.
“All better.” You say, leaning forward to kiss him.
“I’m taking you to the Compound tomorrow so Bruce can take a look at it.” He says.
“Fine.” You say with a playful pout.
Bucky kisses your lips once more, but the kiss was interrupted when Daisy came running in the bedroom.
“Hey!” Daisy shouts, getting yours and Bucky’s attention. “Up!” She says, doing grabby hands at her daddy.
You and Bucky smiled at her cuteness. Bucky picked her up and placed her in between the two of you.
“I draw something!” Daisy shows you and Bucky a picture. “This is daddy. This is mommy. This is Pine Pine. This is me. Me and Pine Pine are superheros like daddy in this one.” She tells you guys.
“It’s beautiful, princess.” Bucky says, kissing the top of her head.
You guys heard Alpine meow loudly as she jumped up on the bed. You guys gave Alpine some lovings before laying down with Daisy in between you and Bucky and Alpine on the pillow next to Bucky’s head.
“I wuv you, daddy. I wuv you, mommy.” Daisy says, kissing yours and Bucky’s cheeks.
“We love you too, baby.” You and Bucky say, kissing her cheeks.
Bucky turned on Barbie for Daisy while you guys cuddled for the rest of the night. Bucky couldn’t ask for anything better than this.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
#sergeant james buchanan barnes#sergeant james barnes#sergeant barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james barnes#bucky barnes#winter soldier#sebastian stan#sebastian stan characters#avengers#marvel#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x wife!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#husband!bucky#dad!bucky#avenger!bucky#wife!reader#mom!reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tell Me The Truth
Miles is keeping secrets and you’ve finally had enough
warnings: cussing, pinch of angst, slight jealousy, pet names
“who is that?” jeff and rio had asked you.
the sight in front of you made your stomach hurt for some reason, your boyfriend, sitting isolated with some random girl nobody has ever seen before. you were already irritated with him; he had left so quickly with little to no explanation when you arrived at the party.
“i-i don’t know…”
it seems like you didn’t know anything anymore.
“should–should we go up there?” rio questionably says, “no, look, she’s leaving.” you pointed.
miles’ head swung over towards the three of you, you all quickly trying to act like you weren’t watching him. nonchalantly, you all waited as he approached you. or so you guys thought he was coming to you, instead he was making his way towards the door.
“miles!” his parents called for him.
you took it upon yourself to follow after him, swinging the door open as he had just reached the last step.
“miles!”
his pace picked up as you had gotten closer to him, he reached his apartment door, trying to shut you out but you stuck your foot in between the door.
“babe! are you okay? why would you do that?!” miles panics.
“what is going on with you?!” you slightly yell, his face finally meeting yours, “what happened to your face?!”
he had a few bruises and some cuts here and there, and his hair looked a hot mess.
“nothing.” he mutters, walking into the apartment.
you follow behind him, shutting the door behind you before following him into the bathroom. he grabbed the first aid kit from underneath the sink, and you snatch it out his hand, urging for him to sit down. he jumped up on the counter and you stood in between his legs, beginning on his face.
“who was that girl?” you asked after a few moments of silence.
“never took you as the jealous type, baby.” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“who is she, miles?”
his smile fades and he drops his hands from your waist when he realized you weren’t amused.
“just somebody i used to know. i haven’t seen her in a minute, she was just dropping by.”
you let out a deep sigh, finishing up his face by applying ointment to it before putting everything in the first aid kit and placing it on the bathroom counter. you removed yourself from in between his legs and began to walk away.
“wait! where are you going? what's wrong?” he followed after you.
you turn around to face him, “i want you to stop lying to me.” you sighed, “once you're ready to tell me the truth, you know where to find me.”
you stood there for a moment. waiting there for him to say something, anything! but nothing. you shook your head, walking over towards the door.
“wait.” he says as soon as your hand is on the doorknob, “this is kinda hard to explain…”
you twist the knob and open the door.
“i’m spider-man!” he slightly yelled.
you shut the door back, hand still on the knob trying to process what he had just said.
“funny, miles.” you sarcastically say, turning to face him again, “you get your ass kicked and claim to be spider-man! it's okay t-"
“no! no, no, i’m not joking!” he says, unzipping his jacket to reveal the black suit that was beneath. very similar looking to the one you’d seen all over social media when people posted spider-man sightings.
“where’d you get that?”
“i made it.” he slightly smiled, “see, look.” he shoots webs, causing you to jump a little bit.
you stood there with your eyes shut for a second, just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. okay, your boyfriend is spider-man. your boyfriend is spider-man.
“wha-when? how? how long?” you approached him, placing your hand on the black suit.
“about a year now.”
“a year?!” you remove your hand, “why are you just now telling me?”
“i didn’t want you to look at me differently.” he shook his head, “i was afraid you wouldn’t love me the same.” his shoulders dropped.
“miles.” you let out a laugh of disbelief, “miles. babe, there’s nothing that could change the way i feel about you, i will always love you. spider-man or not.”
miles didn’t say anything, all he did was bring you into a big hug. you hugged him back, pulling him in as much as possible.
“now explain to me who this girl is once again.” you say into the hug.
miles laughs, pulling out of the hug, “her names gwen. uh, ghost-spider.”
“so she’s spider-woman? there’s multiple of you?”
“yeah, it’s kinda a long story.” he scratched the back of his neck, “any other questions?” he laughs.
“does this mean you’ll take me flying? or whatever it is that you do.”
#miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#spiderverse x reader#spiderman into the spiderverse
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Kiss it better- M. Rempe
Matt Rempe x fem! Reader
In which you’ll always kiss him better
Warnings?; Smut, p in v, unprotected sex( a big no no), oral (f receiving), breast play, pet names, cursing, talks of fighting, blood, talks of injuries and cuts, porn with a small plot pretty much.., I apologize for any errors i missed!
You couldn’t help the smirk that grew the second he walked through the apartment door, his own smirk forming as he shook his head.
“So much for getting more time on the ice.” You laughed watching as he shrugged off his suit jacket and made his way over to you.
“There’s always next game.” He smirked leaning his large body over you, a frown forming on his plump lips when you pulled back.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your lip.” You spoke running a finger softly over the cut forming in the middle of his bottom lip.
“I’ll be fi-“
“I don’t wanna make it bleed, won’t it hurt?” You frowned.
“Baby we go over this every time, I’ll be fine, now please kiss me. Your kisses always make it better.” He pleaded.
You looked at his lip one more time before shrugging and tugging him down by the tie around his neck, a low groan escaping him as the slight sting that ran through his lip.
He didn’t pull away though, if anything he pulled you closer. His large hand resting at the base of your throat as he pushed his lips harder against yours, the metallic taste of his bleeding lip floating between between your mouths.
You were panting by the time he pulled away from you, a whimper breaking free at the way his thumb wiped away the blood that had transferred onto your lips.
“You okay pretty girl?” He smirked.
You didn’t reply, to busy catching your breath as your eyes ran all along his body, catching his cut up knuckles that would be scabbing over within the next two days, and the cut high up on his cheek bone that would do the same.
“W-we need to get you cleaned up.” You mumbled softly.
“Right now?”
“Mhm, come on.” You nodded pushing him backwards softly before standing and heading off towards your bathroom.
Matt shook his head to get himself out of his lusty haze however it didn’t last long as his eyes locked on the way your leggings hugged your plump ass.
“Baby are you sure this can’t wait?” He asked with a slight whine.
“Yes.” You spoke sternly as you turned on the bathroom light and gathered the first aid kit from under the skin, positioning yourself on top of the counter.
Matt took his place between your spread thighs, large hands sprawling out over your cotton covered skin he watched as you poured alcohol over some cotton balls.
It was your turn to frown when he pulled his hand back right as you were about to rub the doused cotton over his skin.
“You didn’t kiss them..” he spoke.
Your lips pulled into a bright smile at his words, with a shake of your head you brought his knuckles up to your lips, kissing over all his new cuts just like you always had since you two started dating.
After kissing both hands you pulled him down towards you before kissing the cut on his cheekbone.
“That better?”
“Mhm, love when you kiss it better.” He smirked.
You shook your head at his words, returning to your original task you took your time cleaning all of his cuts with ease and care.
“There, all clean.” You smiled up at him.
“Thank you baby.” He smiled back pulling you in by your chin for a soft kiss that quickly turned hot and heavy, his tongue wasting no time by dipping in and fighting yours, heat filling your body at the way his lips felt against yours.
“Take me to bed Matt.”
The boy didn’t need to be told twice, sliding his hands under your thighs he picked you up from the counter and carried you into your shared bedroom, laying you down before quickly climbing over you.
Your soft moans filled the room as he kissed down your body, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck before continuing their journey south.
Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and panties he tugged them down impatiently, throwing them somewhere into the room behind him before bringing his mouth to your wet and awaiting core.
“Fuck Matt.” You breathed as the man’s mouth wrapped around your clit.
His tongue flicking out as he traced random patterns with the muscle, his lips returning to your clit he sucked hard, earning him a loud cry at the pleasure that shot through your body.
“Taste so good sweetheart.” He groaned into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body.
His mouth continued its assault on your cunt, two of his thick fingers joining as he continued to bring you closer and closer to an orgasm.
He couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made for him, the way your hands tugged at his hair, and your thighs wrapped around his head held him in place.
He looked up from his spot, his darkened eyes taking in the way your head was thrown back and your eyes were clenched shut tightly.
Flattening his tongue he licked a strip up the length of your cunt, before sucking your clit between his swollen lips.
“Matt!” You gasped feeling the tight band in your stomach just seconds from snapping.
“Go ahead baby, come for me. Know you have to.” He encouraged before returning his mouth back to your glistening cunt.
His large hands pushed your bucking hips down into the soft mattress below as he worked you through your shaking orgasm, only pulling away when your hands began to push at his head.
“Taste so fucking sweet.” He groaned as he climbed back up your body not caring to wipeyour juices from his glistening chin.
You pulled him down to meet your lips once again, moaning against his lips at the taste of your orgasm on his tongue.
“You’re wearing too much.” You mumbled as you pulled back slightly.
Matt shot off the bed at your words, his hands unbuckling his belt with haste as he wasted no time in pushing his dress pants down the second he could, his boxers and dress shirt following shortly after.
Your mouth watered at the sight of his thick cock, the mushroom head resting against his sculpted abdomen, your eyes tracing the thick veins that ran along the shaft.
“Get up here.” You groaned reaching a hand out for him.
Matt smirked but didn’t keep you waiting has he reclaimed his position over your body, his thick arms caging you below him.
You watched as he moved a hand down to his aching cock, a shiver ran through your body as his thick head pushed against your hole, a low ‘fuck’ escaping the man above you as he pushed inside.
Your moan was loud as he pushed all the way in, his hips stilling as his cock brushed that deep spot inside of you, allowing you a second to adjust to his size.
“So tight-fuck..” he groaned as he felt your pussy flutter around him.
“Move..fuck please Matt.”
The groan he let out made your stomach flutter in desire, a soft moan slipping out as he pulled his hips back before snapping forward.
He set a steady rhythm, moving one of your legs to rest over his shoulder allowing him a new and deeper angle. The drag of his cock pulling high moans from you as he fucked you hard.
Feeling him inside of you was something you would never get tired of, the way his body fit against yours, and how well his cock stretched you out.
You could hear how wet you were with each thrust, the sound ungodly but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not with how fucking good he was making you feel.
Matt smirked at the way your eyes rolled back, your moans turning into incoherent mumbles and whines that shot waves of pleasure right to his cock.
The feeling of his large hands grasping your breasts under the shirt you still sported had your head spinning, the mixture of his hard thrusts and rough hands along your body sending nothing but euphoria to your already fucked out mind.
You moaned out as he pinched and pulled on your sensitive buds, fingers never letting up on their movements.
“Look so pretty like this for me baby, all for me.” He he spoke, dropping one of your legs and angling his hips allowing himself to hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust.
He basked in the squeal he pulled from you as he moved his fingers to rub soft circles on your clit, their speed matching the tempo of his hips.
“Shi-oh..I’m gonna cum.” You cried out feeling your second orgasm approaching fast.
“Yeah? Gonna come all over my cock?”
You nodded incoherently as his fingers sped up their movements, pulling you closer and closer to the edge until you finally fell.
“Oh Matt.” You cried out the boys name at the feeling of your climax crashing over your body, your thighs shaking pathetically as a haze clouded over you.
You could hear him praising you, his thick voice adding to the pleasure over taking your body, the warmth that had been sitting at the bottom of your spine now spread throughout your entire body.
Matt continued to fuck you deeply, his hips speeding up as he desperately chased his own high. A deep moan breaking free at the sting of your nails scratching down his back, pulling his large body closer to yours, legs now wrapped around his waist while he had you completely caged below him.
He fucked his cock into a few more times before his hips began to stutter and eventually stilling, painting the walls of your cunt with his release.
Soft whimpers escaped from him as he rested his forehead in the crook of your neck, soft flutters of your tired cunt earning you even more pretty whimpers.
Picking his head up he looked at you with a soft expression, a droopy smile evident on his face as he leaned up to place his lips against yours.
It was much slower then the ones from earlier in the evening, this one full of love and appreciation, him showing you without words how much he loves and adores you.
“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips, not wanting to fully pull away.
You giggled softy, “I love you too big guy.”
You brushed back the few strands of hair that were stuck to his damn forehead, running your thumb over his cut and now bruised cheekbone as you cupped his face.
“This is gonna be a nasty scab.”
“As long as I have your kisses to heal me I’ll survive.” He shrugged, dropping his weight and tucking himself comfortably into the crook of your neck.
You shook your head with a soft smile, wrapping your arms around his much larger body allowing him a few moments of cuddles before you both had to get up and shower.
-

#matt rempe#matt rempe imagine#matt rempe x reader#matt rempe smut#nhl#nhl fanfiction#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fluff#nhl smut#nhl fic
921 notes
·
View notes
Note
billy brainrot🤭 xxxi. "You're mine. Get that through your dense little brain." with him after a breakup!! pretty please
took me 1001 years to finish this but here i am babey
(cws: violent behavior, jealousy, toxic relationship, gn pronouns + fem nickname, possessiveness, post-breakup sex, needy billy, vaguely dubcon, shower sex, pet names, gaslighting)
Billy broke it off with you, not the other way around. He should not be the one banging on your front door, waiting by your car to catch you on the way to work, bothering you at your job to try and talk to you--and he especially should not be sabotaging your dates with other guys by showing up and causing a scene.
Punching your car window and dragging your date out to get into a fistfight with him? It's about as mature as a twelve year old's attitude. It was a first date too, not even that serious.
But that's just Billy. Just like it's quintessential for him to act all offended afterwards, like he's the one that's been put out cause you got mad at him. Then he starts up with the sweet talking, the "c'mon, mama", the kissing on your neck and telling you he missed you when you know he was messing with at least three other girls just this week. There's no reasoning with him, nor any point in entertaining his immature frame of mind. He's messed up and violent--a dangerous and unlikely-to-last cocktail for a partner.
Yet it's no surprise that you ended up in the showers with him, the pool empty and the parking lot dark since it's well close to midnight. You shouldn't have forced him to sit down with the first aid kit when he refused to go to the hospital for his cuts and that sprained shoulder--"'m not a pussy"--he said. It's different once the hot water hits his body, when he's got his hands bracing the wall behind you and his eyes burning a hole through your skull.
"You're mine." He growls over the hail of thudding water on linoleum. His skin burns as it slides over yours. "Get that through your dense little brain."
His muscles pin you like a brick wall against the shower, too broad and too strong for you to possibly resist. He slides your thigh up his hip to hook your leg around it, using the leverage to bump the tip of his rock-solid cock against you. That kiss he gives you is searing.
"Billy," You moan between kisses, your sentence finishing in a gasp as he slides in with a smirk. "You're an ass."
"You love me."
Thump. "No I don't." Thump. Each thrust knocks your head back against the tile, but Billy's hand creeps up to cushion it on the third time onward.
"You'd bite my dick off right now if you didn't."
"Nnh. I might still do it," Your warning comes with absolutely no venom, not nearly enough to wipe that grin from Billy's face as he gets exactly what he wants. Your answer makes him chuckle while he repositions you, hikes your other leg up with a grunt to hold you up against the shower wall. With both hands free you can cup his face as he makes out with you, adding to his perception that this is really what you wanted all along as your touches reminisce on a time not so long ago. When fucking in the pool room showers was a daily occurrence, tending his wounds was a kindness, and hearing him say 'I love you' felt like it actually had some meaning. Now it just feels like it's meant to placate you.
"Put on a condom, at least, you animal." You mutter amongst the sounds of skin slapping, tongues meeting teeth, and your back hitting the wet tile.
"I love you." He murmurs back. His voice rumbles against your throat, preceeding a soft but stinging bite that leaves a mark behind. You've got no idea what that answer means, but maybe it, too, means nothing. He could just be ignoring you for all you know.
"I'll pull out, baby. Y'know I will." Billy nips at your lower lip when he finally raises his head from your neck, having not had enough of using his teeth, evidently. "C'mon, mama. Love you."
"Quit it." That nickname hits you in the chest like a hammer on cloth, more than even those promises of love. He liked to tease you with that, then it became a term of endearment. You've always cared for him; reassuring his difficult emotions, cooling his anger, tending his wounds, even cooking for him and giving him affection in the simplest ways. Maybe that's why he's not letting you go. He can't do any better, but he can't let go of the only comfort he can find.
"That's it, baby..." He's losing himself now. His thrusts are aggravated, growing more aggressive as he reaches the finish line. His eyes squeeze shut and his grip tightens on your hair as his hips buck faster. "Squeeze down on it. That's it--that's, there--oh, fuck!"
The end comes as a surprise, a sudden moment of pleasure that overwhelms his ability to hold out. Billy's weight presses into you and you know--you just know by that distinct pulse inside you--that he's not pulling out like he said. Your nails dig deep scratches up his back as he closes in on it, harshly pressing your hips completely still as he forces himself past that one, last boundary that could've still allowed him an out. Now there's no choice but to drain himself inside you; cum splattering in thick drops down the drain as your legs tremble with pleasure. He always manages to get it on the last try--triggering your orgasm like it's a switch at the last possible moment. But he never misses, not even once.
Now it's sinking in. You're floating off your feet, barely able to stand when he finally lowers you down, and you have to let him hold you just so you don't fall. As much as you want to push him away, he made it so you need him to rely on. Again. And you don't feel as bad about it as you should.
"Break up with that dickhead." Billy growls into your ear, suddenly riled up again--probably over his own thoughts more than anything else. The way he has to tilt his head down just to reach your ear is a new level of intimidating...and regrettably, incredibly hot. "We need to get back together."
"You'll change your mind once your brain evicts itself from your dick." You mumble dismissively, nudging his arm down so you can grab a towel. But he stops you--he blocks you back under the water, his mouth barely a hair's width from yours as he whispers.
"I want you back, baby."
"This was a mistake. It was a first date anyways, weren't even 'together' in the first place...and I still don't want you back."
"Doesn't change the fact that I love you. We fit together." He murmurs into another kiss that you less than reluctantly accept. A lock of your hair curls around his bronzed skin as he twirls it round his finger. "Think about it, at least. I know you want it."
"Why the hell would I?"
"Cause you can't last a week without fucking me." That, at least, is true. But that doesn't...mean anything. Plenty of people backslide, it doesn't mean you're still in love with him. You turn your head in a pout and he smirks at the idea that he's right.
"I like your dick. Not you."
"Then take it every day." He grabs your hand and moves it over his crotch, just to laugh when you yank it away and slap him. It's not hard. Much less hard enough to make him feel anything but affection at how feisty you still are. "You're still mine. My pretty little slut-"
As he whispers low in your ear you finally break away from him, just barely stepping out of the shower when he grabs your ass on the way out. You have to wrench his wrist off to get him to let go and that's fortunately enough for him, but it doesn't change the downright predatory stare he gives you as he watches you dry off and get your clothes back on in a hurry.
"Come by the quarry later. Tomorrow. Let's have some fun in our old spot."
"Don't count on it."
You're done up and out the door before he knows it. Your car revs up in the parking lot outside before peeling out like a madwoman--and he can only imagine the way you're yelling and hitting your steering wheel as you drive, trying and failing to force your thoughts of him out of your head and the way that orgasm felt rippling through you, just as good as he always makes it feel.
He'll definitely be seeing you at the quarry tomorrow night.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#stranger things#spicy writing#writing prompt#ellie writes#anons
472 notes
·
View notes
Text
໒꒱ ‧₊˚ FELINE FIGHT — BLADE
content. fluff, you guys have a pet cat, cat relatively looks like blade — based on a twitter post, gn! reader, jealousy, not proofread!
note. i actually need to catch up on honkai star rail and genshin 😓 probably not how i wanted it to come out , but at least i’m posting 😀
“blade! what are you doing!?”
your black cat’s limbs dangled from where blade held it by the neck. they were having a staring contest.
this was common to happen.
whenever you told blade you would leave to run some errands for only an hour or two, there was always trouble when you came back. specifically caused by the two trouble makers — your cat and blade.
“i’m not doing anything.”
blade blankly eyed the cat — the cat he despised. the cat that stole his spot — in your arms. every night was him sleeping on the other side of the bed, just to give space to the black cat.
he couldn’t remember how many times he felt the urge to grab the cat and throw it out the window. but unfortunately, you denied that from happening.
“what do you mean you’re not doing anything!?” you stomped your way towards blade, “you’re holding the cat by the neck!”
blade grumbled. “so?”
“don’t do that!” you managed to get the cat before blade moved his arms higher from your reach. “it done nothing to you!”
rolling his eyes, blade made his towards the couch — putting arms around his head.
you scowled as you set the cat on the ground, “are you okay?”
the cat meowed profusely and rubbed it’s head against your leg. you pat its’s head before making your way to the bedroom — leaving the cat a few steps away from blade.
let’s hope nothing happens.
~
you just finished your bath and decided to check on blade and your cat — since your heard some meowing.
“bladie, what are doin-“
crash!
books flew down from their shelves and cat scratches were visible on the couch. hissing and high pitched meowing was heard as your cat was, again — dangling from blade’s hold.
“you little-“
“what happened?” you exclaimed.
blade dropped the cat on the couch — which it landed perfectly. silence filled air as blade avoided eye contact.
you seriously couldn’t get how much trouble the two could get while you were away — just for 10 minutes.
you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “care to explain?”
“it was the cat.” blade said, blankly. “it scratched me, look.”
blade moved his bangs back to show the scratch marks — and oh and behold, there were cat scratches.
you swore your mouth dropped to the ground — you never thought your innocent cat could do such a thing.
“are you ok!?” you exclaimed — making your way to the first-aid kit.
dragging blade to a chair, you carefully dabbed some alcohol to his eye. muttering ‘sorry’’s and ‘my bad’’s whenever he hissed from pain.
you lightly add some ointment before asking, “what happed when i was gone?”
your cat walked up and purred against your thigh — acting innocent and pure.
blade didn’t answer your question and just muttered something that didn’t seem necessary for the situation.
sighing for nth time, you got up and picked up the cat. bringing it to it’s original bed that was at the opposite end of the room.
“you’re gonna be sleeping here tonight, okay? no trouble.”
the cat meowed and pawed your knee. you gave it a couple pats before walking over to blade.
smiling, you dragged blade into the bedroom.
“let’s cuddle now, you need rest for your eyes anyway.”
blade smirked.
oh how he loved karma.
but he’s gonna be the one to buy a new couch.
#. ࿓ : txt!#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x y/n#hsr x reader#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#blade x reader#blade x you#blade x y/n#honkai star rail fluff#honkai star rail imagines#hsr fluff#hsr imagines#blade fluff#blade imagines
449 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bike ride (10:06pm)
Warnings! Sub!beomgyu, virgin!beomgyu, big dick!beomgyu, dom!reader, nipple play (gyu rec), strangers to ???, mentions of abusive parents, cuts nd bruises (injuries not sh), making out, pet names (pretty boy, mommy, baby, good boy, beomie, gyu) mommy kink, dick sucking? And unprotected sex (please use protection!)
word count: 1391
summary: Beomgyu snuck out his house to go on a bike ride and ends up falling off! :( but luckily you helped him..
smut under the cut!! MDNI‼️
You left your house about 20 minutes ago and decide to walk to the beachside a few minutes away from your apartment. As you were walking this boy kept riding past you until he fell off! You quickly run over to him and crouch next to him.
“Oh my god are you okay?” You asked him even though he now had cuts and bruises on his body
“Yeah im fine” he tried to move his bike off him “could you please help?”
You nod your head and move his bike off him and help him up
“Hey im y/n i live a few blocks from here so i can help clean you up if obviously you wanted?”
He looked at you and smiled “really?”
“Yes”
“Your not gonna hurt me for like annoying your walk that was meant to be peaceful?”
“What? Of course not! I just wanna help you and then you can go home” you explained to him now having a bit of suspension on why he thought you were gonna hurt him so you decide to ask him as you two start walking back to your apartment.
“Hey i was wondering why you thought i was gonna hurt you? If anything is going on at home with whoever you live with you can talk to me or anything.. but you dont have to if you dont want to”
The boy looked at you and nods his head to say he listened and appreciated your words
“Uhm i come out on my bike quite often at night when my family is asleep and i sneak out and come here often..”
“Ohh so like its an escape for you then?”
“Yeah i uh guess?”
Soon enough you get to your apartment complex and you open the door and let him in first and then you walk towards the elevator and press floor 8.
“Sorry you couldnt bring your bike in here.. but don’t worry the receptionist will keep it safe!”
The boy laughs a little as the elevator dings signalling your at floor 8. You walk out the elevator and the boy follows behind you as you walk to your apartment
“My apartment is kinda big and theres a spare bedroom incase you cant get home..”
“Thank you y/n you dont know how much this means to me..” He says just above a whisper. You make you way to your bedroom and grab your first aid kit
“Hey i never got your name..?”
“Beomgyu”
“Thats a pretty name for a pretty boy. Anyway sit down here” You pat a chair next to you and Beomgyu sits down with light blush covering his face from your complement. You open the kit and take out a antibiotic wipe and gently clean his cuts while he hisses in pain.
“Shit.. ouch” He mumbles
“Sorry..”
You finish cleaning his cuts and bruises and bandage them up
“Its 11pm and i dont want you riding home alone and my car is broke.. would your family mind if you slept here just for tonight?” You asked him
“Mm no they wouldnt mind..”
You nod your head
“You can sleep in the spare bedroom but if you need me or anything you can come in my room”
Beomgyu smiles down at you on your knees and thanks you before asking another question…
“Could i sit on your bed uhm with you and we can just talk?”
“Yeah if you wanted i dont mind!”
“Really?” He asked surprised you didnt shout at him for wanting to be in your bed. You get off your knees and put the bloody tissues in the bin and put away the first aid kit and get on your bed and pt the space next to you. Beomgyu stands up and sits on your bed
“Y/n?”
“Yesss?”
“Can i tell you something?”
“Yes”
“I was on my bike earlier cuz i wanted to escape from my family.. i can’t remember if i told you.. but i wanted to escape from them because they uh abuse me.. so some of the bruises you saw were from my dad as he doesn’t support what i do..”
“Oh well what do you do?”
“I play the guitar and livestream it and he doesn’t support me playing music.. it’s because he doesnt want me to make more money than him since he gets really bad pay days like he doesnt get alot of money and my mom she pays for the bills and my dad uses her but my mom also abuses me but she does it mentally.. and earlier today my dad smashed my guitar while i was livestreaming…”
You nod your head and listen to him carefully..
“Im so sorry thats happened to you Beomgyu and im thankful you trust me to tell me considering we met a few hours ago..”
He smiles and nods his head.
A few hours go by and you dont know how you got onto the topics of your sex like but you did and beomgyu kept a pillow on his lap.. you knew why but didnt say anything until the question came around..
“Are you a virgin?” You asked him and he shuffled slightly as he face went a crimson red as he slowly nodded and soon enough you found yourself on his lap heavily making out with him as you slowly grinded down on his lap.. He whimpered.
“Holy shit..” you thought growing wetter at his moans and noises.
You run your fingers through his long oreo hair and pull away from the kiss
“Are you sure you want this? I mean your a virgin and we dont know eachother super well..”
He eagerly nodded his head
“Okay Gyu if its what you want” you shrug as you sit between his legs and pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees and his thick long veiny cock hit his stomach.
“Jeez baby your huge” you say as you watch the pre-cum drip down his shaft.
“Ready pretty boy?”
“P-please!”
You took that as a yes and kitten licked his tip before taking little by little in your mouth slowly bobbing your head up and down while jerking the rest you couldnt fit in your mouth
“Y-y/n! Fuck fuck fuck!” He whined loudly as he gripped onto your hair
“‘m gonna c-cum.. please let me mommy” his whimpers bounced off the walls of your bedroom as your hands reach up and rub his nipples as he chanted your name like it was a ritual as he came in your mouth and of course! You swallowed.. you dont want his cum going to waste did you?
“M-mommy want your p-pussy..”
“What do we say when we want something baby?”
“P-please”
“Good boy”
You get of the bed and shimmy your pj pants off and let Beomgyu tale your panties off
“Go on take them off for mommy”
His hands slowly took your panties off and he threw them on the floor as you hovered above his cock
“Ready?”
He nodded once again as you slowly sank down on him. You stopped halfway to try get used to him stretching you out and a few seconds later you took him all in your gummy walls.
“Hnng.. f-feels so good..” He moans as you start bouncing on his thick girthy cock
“Doing so well for me Beomie.. so pretty.. fuckkk!” You praised as he hit your sweet spot
At this point the only noises were skin slapping and both of your moans and whimpers
“G-gonna cum” Beomgyu whimpers as he bucks his hips to meet yours
“Cum for me baby” you whisper in his eat as you kiss his neck and leave nasty dark purple splotches on his neck and collarbones. He bucks his hips up to meet yours one last time before he releases his hot load into you and soon after you cream on him and collapse on top of him
“Did so well for me.. im surprised your a virgin with that cock” i laugh and he laughs back
“Ill get towels then you can shower and we can go bed” you say as you get off his cream covered dick and go get warm towels to clean the both of you up..
After your both are cleaned up and in comfy clothes you two fall asleep cuddling….
do not steal, copy, translate!
feel free to reblog my lovelies!
#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt smut#yuri writes!!#choi beomgyu#beomgyu smut#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu hard hours#beomgyu hard thoughts
365 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you write an imagine where jj is seeking refuge in his girlfriend’s home and she cleans his wounds and comforts him?
(This is so cute)
𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬
Warnings : Luke, abuse, mentions of blood, angst, swearing (let me know if i missed any)
Summary : after jj encounters his dad he has nowhere to go and chooses to pay his girlfriend a visit who is more than willing to take him in for a few days
Genre : Angst, Fluff
“You are a piece of shit!” Yelled Luke while taking another hit at his so called son. JJ was hunched up against the wall not having the energy to fight back.
He took one last hit at JJ’s face before spitting on him making JJ flinch. “You’re the goddamn reason why your mother left.” Luke gritted out while picking up a beer from the floor. JJ stood up and stormed into his room profusely crying.
He pulled his hair in anger feeling like he was a pet that his father could control whenever he wanted. He picked up his phone staring at the popped up message that was sent 20 minutes ago.
“Hey JJ, John B told me you were going home and i just wanted to make sure you’re okay”
He read the message over and over again shocked that someone really cared about him. Meanwhile you were sitting anxiously at home biting your lips staring at the message you sent 20 minutes ago. Usually JJ was a fast replier never did he leave anyone on read for more than 10 minutes especially you.
You sat up on your bed when you saw that he had opened the message waiting for ‘typing’ to pop up on your screen. But it never did. Not after 5 minutes not after 10.
You were about to leave your house to check on him when there was a knocking on your door. “Coming!” You yelled skipping down the stairs to answer your door.
And there he was, the love of your life standing with bloodied cuts on his face and hands. You placed down your keys and quickly embraced him in a tight hug.
JJ wrapped his arms around your waist and gently moved you so he could step into the house and escape the coldness of the night. “God, JJ what happened?” You asked while closing the door and turning to him.
“Nothing that hasn’t happened before” he chuckled but there wasn’t any humor to it, it was a cold chuckle. You frowned and quickly took his hand in yours to guide him into the bathroom.
“Sit down” you ordered in an instant taking out the first aid kit he followed your command and sat down at the edge of the bathtub that was standing in the back of the bathroom.
You walked up to him and took out a cotton ball and alcohol to clean his wounds. “This may sting” you informed him but he just kept on staring at you nodding absently.
He hissed when you made contact with his wound making you look into his eyes apologizing quietly “sorry”. You went to kiss his cheek softly before turning to the cut on his lip.
JJ kept staring at you completely lost in love. He often found himself staring at you loving every aspect of your body. You quickly finished with all the cuts he had and discarded the now dirty cotton ball.
“Thank you, baby” he said softly while gently grabbing your face to kiss you. The kiss was a loving one not lustful or harsh. You kissed him back careful not to hurt or open the cut on his upper lip.
You slowly pulled away making him whine at the loss of contact. “JJ don’t go back there” you said staring into his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t” he replied making you smile lightly.
You went in for another comforting kiss and another one before deciding to go to sleep.
JJ had his hands comfortably wrapped around you in bed while you were sound asleep he hummed a tune happy to be in the presence of the only person who he knew would always stand behind his back.
#jj maybank#outer banks#obx#imagine#fluff#one shot#drabble#blurb#smut#outer banks fanfiction#jj obx#obx fic#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#cute#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x routledge!reader
540 notes
·
View notes
Note
im starving for 42 miles and i agree w ur hcs so can u pls write a fem reader fic where we’re chilling at home n he js barges in one night all roughed up n he has heaps of cuts n is bloody- and we get concerned but we know not to ask so we js silently patch him up while he stares at us (and hes got like sm thoughts in his head ab how much he loves us and appreciates us etc) and u can finish it off BUT YEAH
also pls include the pet names cos his accent has me WEAKKK and ik he def calls us ma and mami😩😩😩
Ofc Love!!! I’ve wanted to get this done for a bit now so here it is!!:
A/n: keep requesting miles!42 and regular miles fics please!! 🩷
Warnings: suggestiveness at the end, make out sessions, angst, fluff, groping(it’s consensual and it’s only seen when you squint), love confessions, possible spoilers if you haven’t seen atsv yet
3:00 AM
You: miles, baby are you okay?
Seen
You: are you mad at me for the joke I made about your braids being fluffy?
Seen
You: I didn’t mean it
You: text me when you can. Love you 🩷🩷
Seen
You fell asleep exasperated like you’ve been doing for the last three weeks now. Miles hasn’t been answering any of your texts or calls and has been leaving you on seen for no reason. When you did see him in person, he looked tired and diminished. Ever since his dad died, he’s been acting weird like this; but you could understand why. Although him and Uncle Aaron were closer, Miles was still really close to his dad and his dad loved you. You came over Rio and Miles’ house every day since then and tried to provide solace to them but Miles was always gone when you came over. His room looked different too, having ditched the bright superhero posters and traded them in for boxing gloves and a punching bag. Thankfully, you had established trust with Miles and he knew he could come to you any time, you just didn’t expect him to come through your window at 4:00 AM on a Saturday morning.
It was about 3:15 when he saw your message, he wondered why you were still up and what were you doing but he couldn’t ponder the question for too long because he had someone chained up to his punching bag.
“Miles? Get off your phone, man.”- Uncle Aaron’s voice brought Miles back to reality
Miles did as told and geared up to kill the young boy who looked exactly like himself when all of a sudden, the chains fell and the doppelgänger swung at Miles’ perfectly structured face. A few of the punches connected but he was still able to subdue the mirrored image of himself(if everything went right).
However, Miles’ suit had been clobbered, his clothes covered in blood from a broken nose and blood from the fight. Even though he won, he couldn’t go back to his house because his mom would admonish him for this and Uncle Aaron was keeping watch so he went to your house.
You heard faint tapping on the window that you had assumed it was a bird, until the tapping became a loud knocking. You scurried up grabbing the nearest thing that looked like a weapon and went to the window. You found a battered Miles and knew something was wrong:
“Miles?”-you whisper shouted
“Ola mi amor” he said, trying to be suave but flinching in pain
You opened the window and let him in. You knew he was rough and bloodied up for a reason but it was late(or early depending on how you look at it) and you knew he wouldn’t tell you why; a small part of you also knew but chose not to acknowledge it. You just silently grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up as best as you could. You noticed he had a broken nose:
“Rough night?” You Said, trying to ease the tension
Miles didn’t reply, rather he looked at you through bruised eyes and simply nodded.
“Your nose is broken. You should probably go the the hospital for that” you said, nonchalantly
“Can’t you fix it?” He mumbled
“not easily” you mumbled, mocking his tone
He gave you an annoyed glare before saying:
“I’m sorry to come in late like this. And I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, Mami; it’s a lot going on that you wouldn’t understand and I’m trying to protect you.”
“It would’ve been nice for you to call or text” you said while closing the first-aid kit.
“I knew you would’ve worried about me and I didn’t want that” he said, hanging his head
“I’m your girlfriend, it’s my job to worry about you” you chuckled
It was like a Disney movie, Miles realized that if no one else would, you would hold it down for him and that you were gonna be there through thick and thin. He knew he loved you but this solidified it in his mind; he knew that if he survived long enough, you were gonna be his wife. It would be you waking him up everyday, it would be you kissing him goodnight and good morning, it would be you carrying and having his babies. Some days, he would wake up and wonder how he got so lucky with someone like you but he never thought too much into it because he knew he would find a way to sabotage it for himself but now, he didn’t care:
“I love you, Y/n” he said
“I love you too, Miles” you replied softly
“No. I mean like I love you so much that I can’t stand it, I wanna marry you, Y/n and be with you for life. If no one else has me, I know you do and I can’t even imagine myself without you.” Miles said
You started to tear up before crashing your lips onto his. Your lips moved in perfect sync as he grabbed your hips with one hand, and cupped your face in the other. You stayed this way for a while until Miles slipped his tongue into your mouth, battling for dominance against your tongue which he emerged victorious. He started moving his other hand to your ass as you moved yours to his chest when suddenly, you hear your parent call out:
“Y/n!!!”
“Yeah” you replied nervously, Miles leaving a trail of kisses down your neck
“Breakfast is ready” they shouted
You looked at your phone as Miles rubbed your back and saw it was 8:00 already.
“Shit” You Said under your breath, partly because of how Miles was making you feel
“Go Mamà, we’ll finish this later” he said against his neck
“Okay I love you, call me this time” you smiled
“Por supesto, Mami” he replied
You went down for breakfast and sat in your normal spot:
“Y/n?” Your parent said
“Yeah?” You replied
“What’s that on your neck?” They smirked
Damn it Miles
Translations
Por supesto- of course
#mcu fanfiction#miles morales headcannons#miles x reader#miles!prowler#miles morales x reader#miles morales#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x y/n#miles!spiderman#earth42!miles#earth 42#across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse spoilers#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman#spider verse#marvel#foryou
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
After the kiss you can't forget about, your past and present with Eddie collide under the glow of the city lights and the glittering stars at the City Beats launch party.
Masterlist Listen to Clumsy Here
What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago. Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Mentions of DV. Smut Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.
WC: 11646 beta'd by @superblysubpar
“Stop being such a baby and just let me look.”
The light in Eddie’s bathroom buzzes with a slight flicker, casting a pallid tint over the worn linoleum and water-stained sink.
“I don’t recall anyone asking for your services here, Florence Nightingale,” Eddie grumbles, perched on the edge of the vanity with a blood-soaked washcloth pressed against his forehead. The knuckles on his right hand are swollen and split, and the scrape along his jaw is already turning colors.
You pour a little iodine on a cotton ball you grabbed from the first-aid kit— the one your dad made you keep in your car for emergencies, though this probably isn’t what he had in mind. “Who else is going to patch you up?” you question, shifting until you’re standing in the space between his spread legs.
With a sigh, he lowers the washcloth and tosses it into the sink. Blood wells up in the gash above his brow, the skin around it swollen and purple. As gently as possible, you dab around the cut with cotton.
“Oww.” He winces and leans away. “That shit stings.”
"Sorry." You push up on your tippy toes, drawing closer, one hand resting on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The scent of his apple shampoo tickles your nose as his hand moves to your hip, anchoring you. You purse your lips and blow gently over his wound to soothe the sting. His chest expands with a sharp intake of breath.
"Better?" you whisper, a flood of butterflies taking flight within you. His fingers press tighter into your skin, your shirt inching upward, eliminating the barrier between his touch and your warmth.
"Yeah." His throat bobs, his gaze roaming your face.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
His grip on you loosens as his eyes fall away.
You pick up one of the butterfly strips, pulling back the adhesive tabs. “You said you weren’t going to do anything. I asked you not to.”
The faucet drips into the cracked tub as you press the strip into place. “It was my choice to end things, Eddie. It didn’t feel…it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”
He grabs your fingers, holding them away. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have been running around with him in the first place.”
The anger in his tone has you stepping back until you can feel the towel bar pressing into your shoulders. He stands and faces away from you, shaking his head.
“So what? I’m a slut now?” Your voice is small in the cramped space, bouncing off half-filled bottles of shampoo and shaving cream. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him about losing your virginity to Parker Hayes in the backseat of his mom’s Chevy last weekend. But that’s something you tell your best friend, right? Eddie has certainly never shied away from sharing his sexual exploits with you. Maybe, deep down, you had been hoping for some kind of reaction, but not this.
“No.” His shoulders slump as he turns to face you, the hardness in his stance softening. “I don't think that way,” he explains, his voice growing gentler, “and I'd never think that about you. I want you to date. I want you to have everything. I just want to…” The rest of the sentence dies in his throat as a familiar shadow falls over his eyes, dimming their warmth. “I guess this is what happens when you're friends with a chick,” he chuckles.
“Might have been easier if Gareth had moved down the street instead of me.” You switch gears to match his tone, a familiar move after all this time.
“Yeah, you’re a pain in the ass,” he says, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Speaking of Gareth, I got a thing.” His gaze drops to his wrist, but he’s never worn a watch. “Lock up when you leave, alright?”
You're still standing in his bathroom when the front door clicks closed.
Your hands smooth down the skirt of your long-sleeved mini-dress. Its modest front sits elegantly at your collarbone, but the back—you twist your head to check the mirror behind you—the back dramatically plunges to just above the curve of your ass.
“Wow.” Steve stands stopped in his tracks at the entrance of your walk-in closet, his eyes drinking you in. “You look like a sunset.” He moves behind you, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder as his hand slides over the rose gold sequins covering your dress.
“You’re not too shabby yourself, handsome.” You turn to get the full effect of his designer camel-striped suit with a bright mustard tie. “I always like you in yellow,” you tell him, running a finger down the cool silk.
His smile widens as he grips your hips, spinning you back towards the mirror, wrapping his arms around your middle. “We should do this more often,” he says, holding your gaze in the reflection.
“What?” you ask, crossing your arms over his. “Launch streaming radio services?”
“No, smart ass.” His lips find your temple. “Get dressed up like this and go out. With everyone coming, do you know what it reminds me of?”
“Dare I ask?” You flutter your lashes.
His grip on you tightens in a deliberate firmness that has you tensing. He steals another kiss, pausing for a moment before saying, “Prom.”
“Uck,” you moan, stepping out of his arms and moving to the island to pick up a pair of earrings. “Your parents went to prom? How sad.”
“Come on. Not them.” He shoves his hands in his pants pockets, his gaze tracking your movements. “Everyone else, though. Didn’t you have fun at prom?”
“I don’t remember,” you shrug, attaching the diamond to your lobe.
“Of course not. How stupid of me,” his tone drips sarcasm as he shakes his head, “How could I have forgotten about your Hawkins amnesia.”
The shrill melody of his ringtone sounds from the bedroom, pulling him away before words can escalate. Lately, high school memories seem to invade every conversation, leaving a residue of guilt that clings tighter with each mention. Alone, you face the mirror, taking a steadying breath. He’s under a lot of pressure. This is his night. You plaster a smile on your face, forcing a semblance of calm. You owe him.
With a final glance, you slip on a nude pair of heels and move to the bedroom to let him know you're ready. Steve’s phone is discarded on the bed beside him, where he sits with slumped shoulders and his hands raking through the hair he had just spent time styling.
“Baby?” You keep your voice soft as you sit down next to him, your hand moving to rub circles on his back. “What’s going on?”
He glances up, only now becoming aware of your presence. "It's my parents," he murmurs, his lashes fluttering with rapid blinks as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "They've decided not to come."
“What? But they’re at the hotel.” Your mind races over the possibilities, “Are they okay? Did something happen?”
“Yeah, my dad ran into a client. That’s what happened.” Steve's voice hardens, taking on a bitter edge as he echoes his father's words, “Business is business, Steve. You understand, don’t you, son?”
“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say in a near whisper, covering his hand with yours.
“It’s my fault. I didn’t really want them here, you know? But when I dropped by the hotel this afternoon with the tickets, my dad actually seemed proud of me for once. Fuck. I feel so dumb for getting excited.” He pulls his hand from yours to tug at the messy strands falling over his brow before his eyes find yours again. “Did I ever tell you about my baseball coach in middle school?”
“No,” you shake your head, shifting on the bed to move even closer beside him, offering what comfort you can.
“Coach Patterson.” His eyes fall to his lap. “He tried talking to him once when he dropped me off for a game. He told him that it would mean a lot if he’d stayed and watched me play. But Dad…” Steve's voice falters, “He just looks at me and says, ‘I've got better things to do than watch you lose.’”
“Steve-”
His eyes bore into yours, filling your chest with an ache. “The thing is, we did win, but he still never stayed. He didn’t believe in me. I guess he still doesn’t.”
His phone screen brightens with an incoming call, and he picks it up, silencing it with a push of a button. “I've poured everything I have into this, trying to be perfect, what they—what everyone—expects me to be.” The frustration builds in his voice,“But no matter how hard I try, it'll never be enough. Not for them. And maybe... not for you either.”
You cradle his larger hand between yours, wishing he could see himself through your eyes. “You’ve always been enough.”
“I want to give you everything–”
“Steve, stop. You can’t live for other people. Pursue this because it brings you fulfillment, not for anyone else. Think about everything your dad has given your mom. Do you think it’s made them happy?”
He pulls his hand from yours, a fleeting shadow crossing his features as his gaze drifts to some distant point in the room. “I’d never treat you the way he treats her.”
“That’s right.” Gently, you cup his face, your thumbs brushing lightly against his jaw, coaxing his gaze back to you. “You’re better than him. And if he can’t see that or celebrate your wins, that’s his shortcoming. Tonight is going to go off without a hitch, and Richard is going to thank his lucky stars for having the good sense to have assigned you City Beats.”
Leaning in, you press a soft, deliberate kiss to his lips. “You deserve your success.” His hand rises to cover yours, and your face softens into a smile. “Now, can we go? I need you to dance with me during the slow songs. I’ll even let you pretend we’re at prom.”
The corners of his mouth rise, his chuckle warming the space between you as he leans in, your foreheads touching gently. “What would I do without you, Ace?” The words are gentle as his lips seek out yours. A car horn blares from the street below, breaking the moment. “I think our driver is getting antsy.”
“Well then, handsome,” you say, a gentle determination in your voice as you smooth out an imaginary crease on his jacket. “Let’s go to a party.”
Dozens of spotlights pierce the night, illuminating the iconic Adler Planetarium. Limos and sleek cars roll up, dropping off the who’s who of the city—celebrities, influential politicians, and tech moguls—onto the red carpet-lined stairs. Banners emblazoned with the City Beats logo wave from the art deco building's great dome, set against the dark waters of the lake and the distant city lights.
“Wow,” you breathe as Steve takes your hand and helps you out of the car. The magnitude of the moment takes over. Now it’s your turn to be impressed. “Baby, you did all this!”
Steve’s signature smirk takes over his face, his cheeks tinting with a flush from your compliment. A camera flash pops in your face as you step out onto the red carpet. With a deep breath, you tighten your hold on his hand. The PR team's efforts have paid off. Photogs from all over the city and national publications line the step and repeat. The air is a blend of lake chill and expensive perfumes as you await your turn to be photographed. Steve’s reassuring hand, firm along your ribs, holds you steady as the flashes blind you. His gaze drops to yours, brimming with unmistakable pride, lending you his confidence. A quick squeeze of his hand coaxes a genuine smile as you face the cameras together.
“Not used to being on this side,” you murmur, keeping your teeth on display under the relentless flashes.
He chuckles, drawing you forward. “You're a natural,” he whispers, guiding you to the entrance with a hand at your back.
As you step into the grand foyer, your name being called pierces the hum of conversations. Rihanna waves from across the room, her manicured hand catching the light. She mouths ‘Call me’ before being swept away by her very tall date.
"Was that–" Steve asks, eyes widening.
"I interviewed her last year," you explain, returning her smile with your own as she navigates the crowd.
"Must have made an impression. That was the new point guard for the Chicago Bulls." His eyebrows raise as he watches them disappear into the throng of guests. Leaning in, his breath tickles your ear, “I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, Dorothy.”
Light laughter bubbles from your throat. “Thanks, Toto,” you quip, threading your arm into the crook of his elbow, letting him lead you along.
Abstract designs mimicking sound waves, musical notes set into star patterns, and cosmic shapes elegantly adorn the solarium. The floor-to-ceiling windows extend the celestial theme, allowing for sweeping views of the night sky.
“From Skyline to Bassline: This is City Beats Streaming Radio.”
The DJ's smooth voice transitions the songs playing through the speakers as they live-stream from a platform beside a wall of digital screens alive with a social media feed and a map showing millions of listeners around the world tuning in.
Steve lets go of your hand as he’s swarmed with department heads buzzing with reports and updates. You stand alone, crossing one hand over another as muted conversation hums under the beat of the music. The waitstaff weaves through the crowd, offering trays of fluted glasses brimming with bubbling champagne, and you gratefully accept a glass. Guests interact with kiosks exploring the different channels offered by City Beats, including specific music genres, news, and talk shows, while others move onto the themed lounges or drift out to the terrace for the small bites and views of the city.
“Harrington.” Richard's booming voice sends Steve’s staff scattering into the crowd. “Everything is looking just splendid, son.” He greets Steve with a firm handshake before his voice drops,“Now, how are those numbers?”
You look away, rolling your eyes out of view as you drain the rest of your glass. He can’t give Steve five minutes of peace.
“According to sales, we are easily beating the first round of projections and are slated to hit our monthly target in the next hour.” Steve’s voice is filled with cool confidence, but his palm is damp when his fingers slip between yours.
“That’s good to hear,” Richard says, the tightness in his expression easing as the redness circling his face begins to fade. He leans closer to Steve, his tone firm, “I don't think I need to remind you that Second City has a lot riding on this, which means you've got a lot riding on this.”
Steve's lips press together in a firm line as he stands a little taller and smooths a hand over his tie. Your teeth clamp down on the inside of your lip, forcing your silence.
A waiter glides to your side, stopping to collect your empty glass. You place your flute on his tray a touch too forcefully. The clink with the other glasses is louder than intended, breaking the moment. Richard straightens, his attention drawn to you for the first time. He steps back, the wheels turning behind his eyes as he tries to place you.
His manufactured grin returns as he claps Steve on the shoulder. “Keep up the excellent work, my boy. This is impressive.” He waves a hand, gesturing around the party, “I don’t know what any of it is, but it’s impressive,” he laughs, expecting you to join him. When you only muster a weak smile, his laughter fades, replaced by a brief, awkward silence.
“I’m glad you brought the little lady with you tonight, Steve. She just gets prettier and prettier,” Richard continues, not missing a beat. “My wife’s around here somewhere, probably telling someone how to do their job,” he chuckles, then signals a waitress for more drinks. “Make sure you say hello. She loves gossiping with the other wives.” Handing you both a fresh glass, he adds, “Now, see to it our boy here doesn't work too hard, okay?” With a final pat on Steve’s shoulder and a wag of his finger in your direction, Richard moves off into the crowd.
Steve exhales quietly, the tension leaving his shoulders, as he gently squeezes your hand.
“I don’t know how you stand him,” you fume, “How many years have I worked here, and the bastard doesn't even recognize me.”
“Trust me, you’re better off not being on his radar,” Steve replies, downing his champagne in one go before passing the empty glass off to a passing waiter. “I’m sure he’s going to be on my ass when I meet with the investors.”
“But it’s such a nice ass,” you grin over the rim of your glass, letting the bubbles tickle your lips.
His eyes gleam as he leans in a little closer, but his response dissolves before it's spoken. Warmth heats the bare skin of your back as someone steps close behind you. Your stomach plummets like a rollercoaster, and goosebumps dot your arms—there's no need to look.
“Eddie,” Steve welcomes him with a handshake that shifts to an embrace. “You made it.”
Since the kiss, Eddie has honored your request, maintaining the distance you needed— a display of restraint that the high school version of him might not have managed. But after your talk with Hopper and the shadow of the looming deadline creeping closer, it was only a matter of time before you had to face him. And the clock has just run out.
“How could I pass this up?” Eddie’s gaze darts around the solarium before landing on you. “Doll.” He leans in, placing a light kiss on your cheek before turning back to Steve. “This is some party. Congratulations, man.”
"Thanks for passing the word down your contact list,” Steve says, his tone sincere. “My head of PR mentioned you've made her job a hell of a lot easier."
“Happy to help,” he shrugs, adjusting the gold cufflinks at his wrists. He’s ignored the last few buttons of his pressed black shirt and worn it open-collar, allowing a glimpse of the fine black-inked lines that grace the skin of his chest.
“Do you own a suit that isn’t black?” You ask, eyeing the slim-fit pinstripe, that's obviously been tailored to fit him like a glove. “Or is that a rental?”
“Ace,” Steve chides.
Eddie laughs, the sound rich and easy. “Gotta match with the sweet old tats, don’t I?” The edge that once sharpened your words now fails to cut. His smile blooms into dimples, and it’s contagious. Despite the crackling of nerves and self-made promises, he disarms you. A line creases Steve’s brow as the moment hangs, and your smirk echoes Eddie’s.
A peel of laughter rises above the blend of music and conversation as the party continues. A harried junior staffer pushes through the crowd, bumping shoulders and muttering apologies as she tries to keep a stray lock of hair from escaping her updo. “Steve, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she keeps her voice low despite her breathlessness. “Ted's already on his fifth bourbon, and he's cornered Harris Blake from Bean City Brews. He's telling that joke about the nun and the circus tent, and I think we are about to lose half of our ad revenue for this quarter."
"Shit," Steve mutters, his fingers raking through his hair. "Okay, let's deal with this." Relief washes over the staffer's face as she quickly turns, leading the way.
Steve pauses, his eyes meeting yours, an apology written on his face. "I’m-”
"It's okay. Go," you reassure with a squeeze of his bicep. His lips lift at the corners before he turns away, disappearing into the crowd as your gaze lingers after him.
The weight of Eddie’s eyes settles on you before you’ve even turned to meet them. “So, is this the part where I chase you around all night until you finally agree to talk to me?” he asks, closing the distance with a step forward.
“Actually, I thought we’d skip that part.” Your eyes dip to your shoes, avoiding his stare. “I want to apologize for what happened. I let my emotions get the better of me. It was unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional?” Surprise lifts brows before his lips press together in a hard line. “Come with me.” His hand closes over yours, pulling you through the solarium without looking back before you can object.
“Eddie-” you start, but he’s already ushering you into the double doors of the sky theater.
He doesn’t stop as he leads you into the darkness, the room illuminated only by the soft rows of small floor lights as the soaring domed ceiling swirls with violet and periwinkle projections of the starry sky. Ignoring the few others milling around, he tugs you into the privacy of the shadows, finally releasing your hand. In the orchid-tinged light, his stare holds a depth that's hard to look away from. “This isn’t business, doll. You mean every–” he swallows, “you’re my closest friend.”
“You don’t even know me anymore, Eddie.” Your head shakes, silently begging him to understand.
His hands move to grip your shoulders. “There are some things that time can’t change.”
“It can’t happen again,” you state in a firm voice, taking a step back and widening the gap between you.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, waiting as a couple meanders past, pointing out Cassiopeia. “Then what do you propose?”
“I’ll finish the articles.”
“And then?”
“And then everything goes back to the way it was. I'm sure we'll cross paths from time to time.” The words emerge on a strained breath, tightness seizing your lungs. “It’s for the best.”
“That’s not good enough,” he counters, the shake of his head cutting through the dim light. “I want you in my life.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You can.” He inches closer, blowing out a sigh. “Look, it was my fault. Be my friend. Draw that line, and we won’t cross it. I know you’re still pissed at me, but we can work through it.” His voice falters, the earlier resolve in his eyes melting into a plea. “Aren’t you tired of carrying all this around inside of you?”
His question softens the tension in your chest, suggesting a sliver of peace you hadn't known you were seeking. Maybe the scars etched on your heart for so long have also shielded it from joy. You swallow the lump in your throat, offering an almost imperceptible nod.
“Can you try for me?” he pleads.
“I can’t make you any promises,” you nod again, more sure this time. “But I’ll try.”
His thumb gently traces the side of your face before his arms circle you, pulling you close against him—the scent of vanilla and clove clings to his jacket. Under your cheek, the fabric is cool and smooth, tinged with a hint of tobacco, taking you someplace you thought was lost.
“Don’t mark up my suit with that shit you wear all over your face,” he teases, his hold on you not lessening an inch. “It is a rental.”
There is a tentative hopefulness in your newly minted truce with Eddie. Almost as tangible as the pulse of the bass vibrating through the soles of your shoes. His smile, easy and unguarded, lights up his face as he guides you through the sea of finely dressed attendees with a hand resting on your lower back. Stopping to exchange hellos and handshakes with a group of industry professionals who are eager to discuss his Studio opening. He pushes the topic aside in favor of introducing you. With an effortless charm, he leaves no room for doubt about your credentials as a journalist at Stax and suggests the value an interview with you would bring to their clients.
“What?” His eyebrows lift, amusement playing across his features as he catches the pleased look on your face as you tuck a handful of new business cards into your clutch.
“Are you auditioning to be my new publicist?” you tease, your brain already teeming with the new articles his introduction just made a possibility.
The warmth of his laughter is becoming a welcome sound. “I’ll be anything you want, doll,” he offers, the words punctuated by a flirtatious flash of his dimples.
A snort accompanies the roll of your eyes, even as your stomach flutters.
“I’m proud of you, you know? he adds, a soft earnestness in his tone. “I like showing you off.” The tenderness in his expression doesn't waver as he follows you through the solarium. You find your fiancée chatting with a familiar face. A welcome distraction from all things Eddie.
“Dulcita,” Argyle wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Looking bitchin, as always. That dress is killer.”
Laughing, you nod toward his outfit, “Well, I’m just trying to keep up. You look amazing.”
With an exaggerated flourish, he poses with his thumbs stretching the lapels of his periwinkle floral suit before turning to greet Eddie with a handshake.
Steve's hand finds its way to your hip, drawing you near. "I thought I’d lost you. Where'd you disappear to?"
“Just exploring a bit,” you offer, meeting his look with a smile, but his eyes shift past you toward Eddie.
A pretty blonde waitress weaves through the crowd, her tray of fresh drinks catching Eddie's attention. He flags her down with a tilt of his head and a confident wink. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, plucking a few glasses from her tray to pass around.
“This event is popping off,” Argyle chimes in, taking a glass and nodding toward Steve. “Congrats, dude. I couldn’t have planned this better myself.”
Eddie extends a glass in your direction. “Doll?”
Steve’s shoulders tense as his stare fills the space between you and Eddie, the sides of his mouth dipping. “Have you eaten?” he asks, his hand tightening slightly on your waist.
For a heartbeat, you just look at him, letting the wave of irritation roll past. Your teeth sink into your lip as you decline Eddie’s offer with a shake of your head.
Eddie's face tightens, a flash of restrained agitation crossing his features as he retracts the glass and dismisses the waitress with a polite nod. Argyle, shifts uncomfortably, his lips pursed into an O as his gaze skitters across the room.
Turning fully towards Steve with a soft expression, you aim for lightness. “Argyle’s right, you know. It all looks perfect, Steve,” you say, channeling warmth into your words, “Everyone’s having a great time. All your hard work is really paying off.”
Half of his mouth lifts as his gaze wanders over the crowd. “Guess we’ll see on Monday when the final numbers come in. Richard is already pushing to take City Beats national.”
Your face falls, “But that’s...that’s a massive undertaking. You’d have to restructure everything, wouldn’t you?”
Steve nods, his expression turning heavy. “Yeah, it would mean a major overhaul, not just in marketing but across multiple departments. We'd likely need to set up satellite offices in other cities, which means a lot of travel for me. It’s ultimately up to the investors, though.”
“Not too shabby, Harrington,” Argyle says, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “You’re going to be running with the big dogs now.”
The conversation becomes muted as worry knots your stomach. Steve doesn’t seem to realize that his decisions impact more than just his own future. The coming months loom large with late nights and lost weekends. The toll won’t be just the dark circles under his hazel eyes but the shared moments slipping away like water through your fingers. His relentless drive for success and approval is edging him closer to repeating his father's mistakes—becoming distant, hollow, bitter. Pouring himself into work to the point of exhaustion, neglecting those he loves, just as he was once neglected. You can't just watch as he loses himself, not when you see the signs, feel the strain.
“Come on, Ace, smile for me. This is a good thing.” Steve says with a soft tone as his lips find your temple.
“I know that, and I’m so proud of you,” you manage, lifting your cheeks in the look of adorement he hopes to see. “You work so hard. I just worry.”
His hand shifts to cradle your jaw, tipping your chin to meet his gaze. “It will be fine, I promise. I’ll take some time before things really ramp up,” he reassures, the corners of his hopeful eyes crinkling. “Maybe for a honeymoon?”
“Sounds like someone is trying to think of excuses to get out of the actual work,” Nancy’s voice slices through the moment, her arrival almost as commanding as the deep plum of her silk dress that clings and flows in all the right places, complementing her sleek dark hair.
“A national campaign?” Jonathan steps beside Nancy, his narrow tie and vintage-cut suit making him look straight from the 1950s. “You might as well give back the ring now. Sounds like he’s already married to his work,” he leans toward you, cupping his mouth like a secret, earning him a chuckle from the rest of the group.
Ignoring him, Steve directs his attention to Nancy with a self-assured smirk. “Thanks for showing up, Nance. Wouldn’t want you to miss the moment Second City leaves Spectrum behind for the history books."
Her eyes narrow as her arms cross over her slender body, “That’s adorable, Steve, really. But the idea that your little radio project outshines a whole TV network? Please..”
Steve lets out a snort as his hands move to his hips. “Last I checked, Spectrum's sprawling empire was one channel.”
“We're thinking of expanding,” her voice is as smooth as silk as she examines her nails.
“With the tech we’re developing for on-demand music, who’s going to need cable?”
“If you can manage–”
“If I may suggest putting away the rulers,” Argyle’s voice rises above their bickering, “It’s Steve’s party, and I think we’ve had enough dick measuring for the evening.”
“Fine,” Nancy agrees as she holds Steve's stare, matching his smug expression, “I’ll concede. Congratulations on your accomplishments, Steve.”
“Appreciated,” Steve says, with a tip of his chin.
“But let's be clear,” Nancy adds, unable to help herself, “my dick is still bigger.”
Argyle groans as Jonathan's eyes roll skyward. Eddie takes a gulp of champagne, trying to stem his laughter.
“Where’s Robin?” you ask, cutting off whatever retort Steve was planning before it has a chance to leave his mouth, “Didn’t she ride with you guys?”
“She took off at the coat check with Jessie J—something about a twerking tutorial,” Jonathan explains, looking confused as he tucks his hands in his pockets.
Nancy's laugh tinkles with mischief. “Trust me, it's a sight. Robin insists she's better.”
“Well, I’m not missing that,” Eddie says, polishing off his drink, “I’ll catch you all later.” He turns and leaves your group, placing his empty glass on a waiter's tray as he walks past.
As he melts into the crowd, Nancy's gaze shifts to Richard making his way toward your circle. Her smile tightens ever so slightly, “Oh god. Is that Richard Kingsley?” she asks Steve. “I thought he’d have retired by now, off riding a golf cart in Florida.”
“No such luck.” Steve mutters under his breath, “Play nice, please.”
“I’m always nice,” she whispers before she plasters on her grin, “Richard.”
Richard approaches with a practiced smile, extending his hand to Nancy. “Nancy Wheeler, Spectrum’s shining star in the digital domain, or so I’ve been told. They’ve certainly sent us their best tonight. How’s the world of content directing? ”
“Actually, Richard,” Steve quickly corrects, his voice firm yet courteous as he positions himself alongside Nancy, “Vice President of Content Strategy. Nancy’s been leading the charge there for over a year now.”
Richard's smile doesn't falter as he turns to Nancy. "My apologies, Nancy. I’m sure it's a well-deserved promotion.” She offers him a polite smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes as he continues, “Your insights at the conference in New York were…enlightening. It's always good to have industry leaders like yourself in attendance.”
As if on cue, a junior staff photographer weaves through the crowd. Richard snaps his finger at him, seizing the opportunity, "Let's capture this moment, shall we? A picture for the company archives.”
“Better him than me,” Jonathan mutters as the staffer directs the group a few feet away, ensuring the City Beats Logo will frame the background of the photo. Richard positions himself at the center, patting at the shine of his red face with a handkerchief before draping an arm over each of their shoulders.
“That’s depressing,” Jonathan snorts, watching the setup. “Well, I'm off to find a drink that matches my cynicism,” he adds, taking the opportunity to slip away, leaving you alone with Argyle.
“So,” The sweetness of pineapple and weed hit your nose as Argyle leans over your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear, “It looks like you and Eddie sorted out your shit, huh?”
“We’re tolerating each other,” you tell him without turning your head.
“I don’t know, man,” he muses, his eyes narrowing, “Tolerance was not the look on your face when you walked in here with him.”
A huff escapes your throat as you whip around to face him. “I’m interviewing him, remember?” you ask, trying to keep defensiveness out of your voice. “I'm just trying to be…pleasant.”
“You can tell yourself whatever you need to,” he adds, concern written across his face. “But from where I’m standing, you look like you’re in way over your head.”
The words die in your throat as Eddie reappears, weaving through the crowd with the grace of someone used to navigating this kind of affair. In one hand, he balances a plate arranged with an assortment of canapes and sushi, each piece a miniature work of art. His deep brown eyes keenly focused on you. “Eat something, doll,” he suggests, handing the plate over to you.
That feeling wells up in your stomach as you purse your lips, trying not to let your mouth stretch too big in front of Argyle, although he probably has picked up on the heat rising to your face. “Thanks,” you say shyly, accepting the plate.
“I’ll snag one,” Argyle reaches toward your plate with two fingers.
Eddie brows lower. “You can get your own, they’re not charging.”
“Sheesh, I know, dude. They're from my restaurant,” Argyle informs him.
“Then you know exactly where to get more,” Eddie counters.
“Did you find Robin?” you ask, changing the subject. “Was she twerking?”
“Yeah, I caught the tail end of it. And I’ll never unsee it,” his genuine laughter fills the space. “I think it’s burned into my retinas.”
“Mrs. Harrington," comes the voice of a junior staffer materializing beside you with such abruptness that the plate nearly slips from your grasp. "They want you in the photo now.”
“Umm, sure,” you say, glancing to where Steve is standing with Nancy, laughing at something she said. Eddie takes the plate from you, his easy smile from earlier erased by the downturn of his lips.
Smoothing down your skirt, you follow the photographer, consciously relaxing the clench of your jaw over how you were addressed. Steve’s eyes sparkle with warmth as he makes space for you between himself and Nancy, Richard positioned at the end. The clear happiness on his face eases your irritation. His hand finds a place on your ribs, pulling you into his side before the photographer directs you where to look.
“Very nice,” Richard comments with a nod after the flash goes off.
“One for your company Christmas card,” Nancy quips, throwing a look in Steve's direction.
Richard, not missing a beat, turns to you both. “Yes, well, it’s always a pleasure, Ms. Wheeler. I hope you enjoy the party,” he says before shifting to Steve. “Ready to give the investors a tour, my boy? They’ve had their share of drinks. Should be just about softened up for you now.”
“I’ll be right with you, Richard.” Steve waves him off, his eyes softening as he looks down at you, “You going to be okay on your own for a while, Ace?”
“Absolutely,” you tell him, rising to your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re going to kill it, handsome.”
The side of his mouth tips up as you use your thumb to wipe away the gloss you left behind. “How did I get so lucky?” he wonders aloud, his gaze locked on yours. Leaning in, he captures your lips with his in a kiss that lingers a beat too long for a public place.
“I'll find you later.” Regret clouds his eyes as he pulls back, slipping on the professional mask he wears far too often. He walks away with Richard in tow.
“I better go find Jonathan,” Nancy tells Argyle and Eddie as you rejoin your friends, “or he’ll end up in a corner talking politics all night, and I made him promise me that he’d dance with me for at least one song.”
“You can sign me up for one too, Wheeler,” Eddie says, popping a piece of sushi in his mouth. “No arm twisting required.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Munson,” she promises, pointing a playful finger at him before turning to leave, her dress swirling behind her.
“You, Eddie Muson, volunteering to dance,” you tease, your expression mockingly shocked. “Now I’ve seen everything.”
“Play your cards right, doll, and I’ll show you up close and personal,” Eddie says, his eyebrows dancing as he offers you a canapé.
“That’s alright, Eddie. I’ve got my regular dance partner right here, right Argyle?” you say, looping your arm through his.
“Yeah... yup,” Argyle murmurs, his attention momentarily snagged by a tall brunette striding past. She sweeps a waterfall of silky hair over her shoulder, pretending not to notice him, but the extra sway added to her hips says otherwise.
“Solo dame una noche con ese culo y te haré mami, querida,” Argyle calls after her, untangling himself from your arm.
“Traitor,” you accuse, watching him go with a shake of your head as he follows after her without a backward glance.
“Ve por ella, amigo,” Eddie encourages with a booming laugh.
Turning back to you, he rocks on his heels, a smirk playing on his lips. “Looks like it’s just you and me, doll.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to look so happy about it,” you chide when his dimples make an appearance, sending the rusted chains around your heart rattling when it jumps under your ribs. Maybe Argyle wasn’t too far off the mark.
A brisk wind cuts across the dark surface of Lake Michigan. The City Beats logo burns bright in yellow neon, its light spilling over the outdoor stage and dancing across the water’s surface in a rotation of colors. Despite the press of bodies, warmth is scarce, with the night air nipping at any exposed skin. Before you can even think of shivering, Eddie drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, the fabric holding the residual warmth of his body. He stands close beside you, seemingly unfazed by the cool temperature, as Maroon 5 concludes their set.
The crowd sways as one, heads bobbing in sync with the rhythm pulsing into the chilly evening. The spice of Eddie's cologne is a veil around you, drawing you closer into his orbit. Glancing his way, you expect his attention to be on the show, eyes tracking each note and chord. Instead, you find the intensity of his gaze fixed on you.
As the song ends with the band offering their thanks, the MC dashes on stage to announce the next performer. With a tip of his chin, Eddie motions for you to follow him. Together, you squeeze through the crowd, walking along the path at the lake's edge until the sea of people begins to thin, their noise fading into a distant murmur until it's just the two of you left, accompanied by the quiet hush of waves lapping against the bank.
He stops, gazing out over the water, city lights dancing in his eyes. “I almost forgot how your face changes when you listen to music. It’s like the lyrics break right through, lighting you up from the inside.”
“My one true love,” you respond with a wistful sigh, giving him a shrug.
“Oh yeah?” He turns toward you, inching a bit closer to reach into the breast pocket of the suit jacket enveloping your shoulders. He pulls out a tightly rolled joint, eyeing you with a raised brow. “What’s with all the ‘Mrs. Harrington’ business?” he asks, placing the joint between his lips and fishing a brass Zippo from his pants pocket. “Did you get married and forget to invite me?”
Your eyes flash skyward as he lights it with a practiced flick and takes a deep drag. “I don’t know...Steve encourages it. I think it’s his way of reminding me he’s waiting for me to set a date.”
He passes you the joint and blows out a lung full of white smoke that swirls into the night air. “You have left the poor sap waiting for a while.”
“I don’t want to talk about my relationship with you, Eddie,” you say, flicking the ash off the burning paper's end before pressing it to your lips and inhaling.
“Why not?” His gaze probes, seeking an opening, a slip, anything. “Friends talk about their relationships, don’t they?”
You can’t help but cough, the potency of the smoke catching you off guard. “You know exactly why not,” you retort, passing the joint back to him. A soft fog settles over your thoughts, smoothing out the evening’s sharpness. “And you? Volunteering to help with the guest list...” You eye him skeptically, “Trying to ease your conscience?”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes another hit, “It was only a couple of texts, doll,” he says, passing the joint back to you, his fingers brushing yours. “Trust me, I sleep just fine at night. What’s between you and me started long before Steve entered the picture.”
"Well, he’s here now," you assert with defiance, your gaze locked with Eddie's as the joint burns down in your fingers.
His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your left hand into the streetlamp's glow until the diamond on your finger flashes. "I guess he is. But doll," he steps closer, his eyes holding yours, "so am I."
“Yeah? Let’s wait and see if you stick around this time.” Your skepticism is clear as you bring the joint back to your lips, watching his face fall with your pointed words.
“So this is where the cool kids hang out,” Hopper’s gruff voice cuts into the night, anchoring you back to reality. Eddie takes a step away from you, his hands tugging on the ends of his curls. Hopper’s eyes narrow on the joint between your fingers. “Really think it’s wise to smoke grass at a work function?”
“I promise not to operate any heavy machinery,” you respond in a dry tone, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
The older man’s eyes shoot skyward before he holds out an expectant hand, “Give it here.”
You hand it over, and the burning paper crackles as he takes a practiced drag, “Are you going to introduce me?”
“Sorry. Yeah,” you rub your forehead, “James Hopper, this is my…um, friend, Eddie Munson.” Eddie leans forward, reaching out to shake hands as you quickly explain, “Hopper’s my editor.” The steadiness in your voice doesn’t quite bridge the awkward moment.
Eddie’s brows raise as Hopper’s hand closes over his in a crushing grip. “Hell of a grip,” Eddie comments with a question written across his face.
“A handshake is a good measure of man,” Hopper offers him no other explanation, handing him back the smoking joint before turning to you. “I expect a write-up of the launch on my desk by 10:30 tomorrow for the digital edition. And don’t skimp on the details about the radio service. Downtown is keen on pushing this, so I hope you paid attention.”
“No problem, Hop. I’m on it,” you assure him.
“Now, I’m going home to Joyce. If she gets a whiff of this on me, I’m sending her your way.”
“You’ll be in the clear,” you promise with a soft grin.
Hopper's stern demeanor gives way to something gentler. “Alright,” he says with a nod, “Enjoy your evening, kid.” His eyes dart to Eddie. “But not too much.”
“Jesus, that’s your editor?” Eddie asks once Hopper is out of sight. “The guy missed his calling, he would’ve made a great cop.”
Your laughter accompanies the dismissive shake of your head. “We better go back inside.”
The walk back is steeped in quiet, the night’s emotions a heavy weight that weaves threads of weariness and a dull ache through your limbs. Eddie appears less burdened, wearing an expression of contentment, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of his jacket still resting over your shoulders. The warmth of his palm seeps into the bare skin of your back while his thumb traces soothing circles along your spine. Carried in on a breeze, the earthy spice of late-blooming asters mingle with the vibrant colors of marigolds softened under the glowing canopy of string lights.
As you near the terrace, the murmur of voices grows, and the sparse groups of people along the pathway thicken to a full gathering. The shift from the lake’s tranquility to the party's bright lights and crescendo of conversations is jarring. The solarium overflows with party-goers, their inhibitions loosened by drinks as they flood the dance floor, the music swelling louder and more insistent than before. Despite the sea of people, it takes only moments for Steve’s gaze to lock onto yours across the room as you reenter with Eddie by your side.
Without hesitation, he leaves the conversation he'd been having and moves toward you. The corners of your mouth lift in a greeting that isn’t returned. His forehead creases with a question. The air seems thicker as you slide the jacket off, returning it to Eddie, the tightness in your chest reappearing. Steve's jaw clenches as he reaches you, his arm circling your waist. “I’ll take my fiance back now, Munson.”
Eddie’s smirk sharpens as he hooks his jacket over one shoulder, “Just keeping an eye on her for you, buddy. Couldn’t leave the lady alone with all these musicians wandering around.” He leans closer, his free hand circling his mouth, “They tend to get a little handsy.”
"Thanks, pal," Steve replies, the last word stretched tight as he stands taller. “I’ll take it from here.”
Eddie’s gaze drops to his feet momentarily before his head lifts. Amusement widens his grin, reflecting a confidence that borders on smug. His feet shuffle as he adjusts his posture to match Steve’s. A twist of nerves tightens your stomach as a spark that you know all too well brightens Eddie’s eyes like an echo of the cocky teenager he once was.
“How about that dance you promised me, handsome?” you blurt, cutting Eddie off just as his mouth opens to respond. Stepping between them, you intertwine your fingers with Steve's and tug him toward the dance floor. As if on cue, the music mellows to a slower tempo.
Steve’s stare remains on Eddie as his arms circle your waist. “You know, it’s funny, I never realized what a dick Eddie is.”
Your head turns to see Eddie watching you with hands shoved in his pocket. “You barely spoke to him all night. What led you to that conclusion?”
Robin bops over to meet him, her blue eyes gleaming as she tugs at his arm, trying to coax him into a dance despite his shaking head.
“I don’t know. The guy is just rubbing me the wrong way,” Steve doesn’t hide the irritation in his voice as he turns you so you’re facing away from them.
A burst of protectiveness that has been dormant since high school wells up like a hot spring. The words escape before your better judgment can catch them. “Really. Are you sure it’s not because he’s my friend?”
The mossy green rings of his eyes burn into yours for only a moment before he blows out a soft breath. “Let’s not fight.” His big hand slides down to rest low on your back as he pulls you closer. “I’ve been waiting to get you alone all night,” he says into your ear before his mouth covers yours hotly, leaving you whirling with his quick change. “Where have you been all night, Ace?”
One side of his mouth lifts in a half-smile, but his confident mask slips. Behind his eyes, he’s lost—the familiarity tugs at you. Rising on your toes, you press your lips to his. “I’m right here.”
His expression softens, radiating a comforting warmth as his lips brush your temple. The rhythm of the song wraps around you both like a truce. Burying your cheek into Steve’s shoulder, your gaze follows Eddie as he turns his back and heads for the door.
Steve leans closer to the bathroom mirror, his fingertips shiny with the pomade he's using to piece out the strands of his chestnut hair.
“Don’t forget your glasses,” you remind him, turning away from the open doorway and entering your bedroom.
“Or the tickets,” you toss out, noticing the white envelope on his night table.
“What would I do without you, Ace?” His voice floats from the bathroom, light and teasing.
Settling at the end of your bed, you pick up the novel you started recently, the book's weight familiar in your lap. Seeing Steve so relaxed and happy broadens your smile. He deserves this night out to blow off a little steam. City Beats' launch exceeded every expectation. A success that's finally turned the heads of the old guard at Second City toward the efforts of their youngest executive. Of course, memories are short, and victories are fleeting.
Steve's workload hasn't lessened, and the prospect of taking the platform national is still on the horizon, but you've set aside any misgivings, at least for now. It’s been a week since you surprised him with the Bulls tickets during his birthday dinner at Maple and Ash, Steve’s favorite, surrounded by your closest friends–with one empty chair at the table when Eddie hadn’t shown.
“Sure you don’t want to come? I still have an extra ticket,” He asks, emerging through the pocket doors separating your bedroom from the closet. Securing his Jaeger-Lecoultre watch to his wrist, the scent of Dior Homme follows him.
You glance down at your cozy leggings and cream wrap sweater. “I’ve got big plans tonight, handsome.” You hold up the book against your chest. “Didn’t anyone from your pick-up game want the ticket? Or those guys you play racquetball with?”
“I didn't get a chance to ask until the last minute,” he explains. “Robin called my office about fifty times to harass me about inviting Eddie to the game. It took me all week to get the guy on the phone, and then he turned me down flat.” He shakes his head, walking over to his nightstand to retrieve the tickets.
“I don't think Eddie is much of a sports guy,” you muse, glancing down at your fingers, folding and unfolding a dog-eared page. “He used to say he didn't have time for throwing balls into laundry baskets. He’d go on and on about the unfairness of high school politics.” A quiet laugh escapes your mouth along with the memory. “He could be so dramatic back then.”
When you lift your eyes, Steve's standing frozen in place, the deep line between his brows wiping away his easy demeanor. He's looking at you like he's just found an uninvited stranger in his bed. It’s just a flash before he recovers, his features returning to the affectionate expression he usually carries for you, but it was enough. The parts of yourself you keep hidden loom like an iceberg–he’s just spotted the tip. You draw your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“Yeah?” He pauses, the air between you thickening as a hint of challenge colors his voice. “That’s a little weird considering he got us seats at a Lakers game last time I was in LA.”
The silence stretches just a moment longer. “Guess he’s not the same guy you knew back in Hawkins. But then again, none of us are, right?” He lets the question hover, knowing an answer isn’t coming. “People change,” he shrugs, his gaze intense and probing. “Or maybe we just never really knew them at all.”
He steps closer and leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth in a kiss that punctuates the conversation. His tone, sharp and heavy like a dull knife, cuts deep as he turns to leave. “Enjoy your book.”
“Wait.” You slip off the bed, bridging the gap between you. Your fingers tangle in the material of his shirt, drawing him closer until your lips meet his, adding pressure until his arms circle your waist and he kisses you back. His embrace grows warmer as your tongue slides into his mouth, grazing his before pulling back, making him chase you, and he does. You break away but keep him close, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath a warm whisper as his nose runs along your cheek. “Have fun, okay?” you murmur against his lips as his hands slide up and down your back. “Knock back a few. Yell at the Ref. Get Jonathan drunk enough to annoy Nancy.”
He chuckles, a smile lifting his cheeks. “You got it, Ace.” His eyes close as his lips find yours again. “I love you.”
"I love you too, Steve," you whisper, your fingers uncurling from his shirt as you let him go. He takes your hand as you follow him downstairs. He opens the front door to a car waiting at the curb, the driver hoping out to open the backdoor.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.” He smiles, picking up his keys from the small table.
The cold air rushes in from outside, and you pull your sweater tighter around your neck. Watching him step through the door, you call out, “Happy Birthday, handsome.”
As you close the door, Steve pauses on the landing with a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know, now that I think about it, Eddie didn’t stop yapping that entire game. Maybe you’re right after all. The guy just doesn’t like sports.”
You give a noncommittal shrug, your fingers tightening around the edge of the door. "What did you talk about?"
“Can’t remember,” he shakes his head, resuming his descent down the steps. You watch for a moment longer before closing the door and latching the deadbolt.
With a sigh, you turn back to the now quiet house. The soft pad of your fluffy socks muffles your footsteps as you drift through the rooms, dimming the overhead lights to let the warmer glow of lamps bathe the space in a comforting light. You head to the kitchen, grabbing the remote from the counter. At the press of a button, the scratch of a guitar and a gravelly voice fill the silence, as comforting as an old friend.
You mouth the lyrics as you reach for a wine glass from the cupboard. With a practiced motion, you uncork a bottle of red, filling your glass halfway, only to keep going until it's right to the brim. The song shifts as you leave the kitchen, glass in hand, taking a sip, the rich flavors of dark fruit and spice mingling perfectly, soothingly. Sinking into the couch, you tip your head back against the cushion, letting the music and the stillness envelop you. Your eyes close, the lyrics weaving a soothing spell, chasing dark thoughts away.
The peace is predictably short-lived. A buzz jolts you. The phone tucked into your leggings vibrates with an incoming call. You try to ignore it, letting it ring to voicemail, but it buzzes again—this time a text. With a resigned huff, you pull it out and unlock the screen with a click.
Missed Call – Eddie
Eddie: Your neighbors don’t complain when you play music that loud?
You blink down at the screen and then lift your gaze to the room's dark corners.
Eddie: Don’t get freaked out. Just come to the door.
Pushing off the couch, you pad through the house to the front door and open it to the chilly November night. A brisk gust of wind blows down your street, swirling dried red and orange leaves around Eddie's black leather boots, where he stands at the base of your steps, bathed in the soft glow of the sconces flanking your door.
His hands are shoved into the pockets of dark-fitted jeans, a cozy half-zip sweater in deep charcoal hugging his broad chest. He looks up at you from under his long lashes, head slightly cocked to the side. “I tried the bell.” His head turns to the street as a passing car splashes water up from the wet pavement. “What kind of sound system is that? I thought Chris was in there with you for a second.”
Wrapping your arms around your chest, your fingers gently rub the fabric of your sweater as you ignore the surrealness of Eddie casually referring to Chris Cornell by his first name. “What are you doing here? Steve's not home.”
“I know. I thought the guy would never leave. How long does it take him to do his hair, anyway?”
“It’s not funny, Eddie. You can’t come in.” You glance down the street to see your neighbor, leash in hand, appear in the circle of light cast by the streetlamp.
“I don’t want to come in, doll. We’re going out. And we're late, so if you could light a fire under it.” Eddie’s lips press into a hard line as your neighbor passes him on the sidewalk, giving him the once-over, the poodle pausing to sniff his legs.
“Evening, Mr. Davis," you acknowledge with a wave as the man continues down the street, shaking his head. You turn back to Eddie, frustration evident in your tone. "I can't go anywhere. I'm not even dressed.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow, assessing your attire. “Those look like clothes to me.”
Your head tilts to the side, your expression unwavering.
He glances at the sky and lets out a frustrated sigh before his gaze returns to you. “You look beautiful, doll. Now, please. Just grab your coat,” he implores, his hands pressing together in front of him. “ I promise to have you back before you turn into a pumpkin.”
Your eyes lower to where your toes are wiggling in your socks, “Eddie, I–”
“Well, I could always just hang out here,” he muses, scratching at the scruff on his chin. “Might get awkward when the game lets out.”
“You're not serious,” you challenge, skepticism evident in your tone.
“Oh, aren't I?” he asks, cocking a brow as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Friends hang out together, don’t they?”
“Fine,” you fume. “But I better be back in plenty of time.” You catch the way his smile broadens as you turn back into the house to slip on a pair of boots and grab an old woolen peacoat off the hook by the door. Stepping out onto the stone landing of your brownstone, you hesitate, shooting him another look of apprehension before turning to lock the door.
“Christ, woman, was that so difficult?” He throws his hands in the air as he crosses the street to a shiny black Audi Q7 parked at the curb. With a wave of his hand, he opens the passenger door, beckoning you to climb inside.
The bare branches of the trees sway with the wind, casting moving shadows against the shining asphalt painted with the last of the fallen leaves. You walk across the road to where he’s waiting and step into the SUV. You sink into the plush seat, the smell of leather, smoke, and his cologne assaulting your senses. It's the same scent that seemed to linger for days after your last visit to CursedSound, the one your guilt tried to erase.
Your hands worry themselves in your lap, twisting the diamond on your fourth finger while you wait for him to round the vehicle. The agreement about keeping the lines drawn is fresh in your mind as he climbs into the driver's seat.
Without warning, he leans over you, the warmth of his body invading your space, the pout of his full bottom lip hovering inches from yours. The sharp intake of your breath echoes loudly in the vehicle's quiet confines.
“Seatbelt,” he reminds you, his big brown eyes dancing with amusement as he drags the strap across your shoulder and clicks it into position at your hip.
Heat rises up your neck, burning your cheeks as he settles himself in his seat, strapping in before pressing the button that starts the ignition.
“Shit.” His face falls as he glares at the glowing numbers on his dash. He turns the wheel, lurching the Audi onto the roadway. Your neighborhood disappears in a blur as he turns and heads north. “And I thought LA traffic was bad,” he mutters, weaving in and out of stagnant lanes.
The congestion loosens as he turns onto Lakeshore Drive, heading uptown. The moon hangs low, presiding over the rippling waters of Lake Michigan that stretch out into the night. A vast, dark canvas that reflects the tapestry of light from the towering buildings across the roadway rises to pierce the skyline.
Music from Eddie’s phone plays at a low volume through the stereo. It serves to fill the quiet between you, but there’s something in the clash of the electric guitar and smooth bass that's an itch in your brain. Familiar like a half-remembered dream, but somehow still new.
Your eyes steal glances to your left. His profile fades in and out of shadow with the passing headlights. The sharp line of his jaw tightens with a clench when he’s forced to slow his speed. The baby softness he used to carry in high school has given way to solid angles and the perpetual growth of stubble. There’s no denying it– he’s only gotten more attractive.
His head turns suddenly, catching your stare. Your throat clears as you reach for the knob, turning up the volume and letting the song replace anything about to be said. His hand moves from the gear shift to his thigh, his elegant fingers flexing against his jeans. Your eyes stay fixed on the taillights ahead as the song moves into its final refrain.
"Wait." You reach out to punch the back button, restarting the song. "This is you."
His eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth parting slightly. "How did you—"
"I’m right, aren’t I?" you interject, pointing at the dash, focusing on the distinct chord progression and the sound of fingers sliding over frets.
"Yeah, it's something I’ve been working on for a while,” he admits, looking at you with soft eyes. “Still trying to figure out a part that's missing."
"I didn’t realize you still played," you comment, adjusting the volume again.
“I don’t know why you're surprised,” he says, reaching back to place his hand on your headrest as he smoothly backs the SUV into a space, turning the wheel to align with the curb. “I don't give up on the things I care about.” He shifts into park and turns off the ignition. “Come on.” His hand lands on your knee in a gentle squeeze. “We’re here.”
Exiting the car, you step onto the empty side street. Ambient light filters down from the high windows of the brick buildings lining both sides of the street. A nondescript bus with blackened windows and a few other cars sit parked at the curb. This is exactly the kind of place you'd normally avoid after dark. Sighing, you round the car to where Eddie is waiting. His hand finds its way to the small of your back, guiding you across the street to a lone, unmarked steel door. With a closed fist, he raps out five quick knocks followed by two slower and turns to you with a grin.
“What are we doing here?” you ask, shoving your hands into your coat pockets and looking up and down the street.
“I’m apologizing.” His words are cut off by the scraping sound of locks, followed by the door swinging open. Bright light spills out, casting a silhouette of a very large, bald man holding a clipboard, nearly obscuring the doorway.
“Can I help you?” booms the man’s voice, reverberating off the surrounding brick.
“I’m on the list,” Eddie says, undeterred.
“Name?” the doorman asks, retrieving a pen from behind his ear.
“Munson,” Eddie responds, glancing at the clipboard. “Edward and guest.”
The man sizes up Eddie with a thorough once-over, his gaze flickers towards you briefly before allowing you both to enter.
Following Eddie, you step inside, the brightness of the overhead fluorescents bouncing off the cinder block walls, causing you to squint after the dimly lit street outside. Flight cases and amp stacks clutter the small vestibule of the venue's loading area. The muffled thrum of a bass line vibrates through the walls and high ceilings.
“You’re cutting it close,” the man grunts, his staff shirt stamped with the Riviera Theater’s logo pulling tight across his chest as he hands Eddie two lanyards with plastic tags.
The sweet sound of a cascade of delicate strings drifts through the air from down the hall opposite you, drawing your attention like a moth to a porch light.
“Is that violins?” Turning toward the sound, tiny sparks ignite in your chest as Eddie slips the lanyard over your head.
“You know the way?” The doorman snaps his clipboard, ignoring your question.
“We’ll find it,” Eddie assures him, his fingers closing around your elbow as he tugs you toward the hallway.
The smile stretching your lips is automatic. Tingles of energy zip through your veins as anticipation builds, like being a kid at Christmas. As the stark fluorescents give way to dimmer bulbs, a murkier haze settles around you, mirroring the anticipation building in your chest. Their soft glow catches the shine of the dark curls resting on Eddie's collar as you trail after him down the maze of narrowing corridors.
Passing by closed doors and bulletin boards tacked with production notes and schedules, you step lightly to avoid the cords snaking across your path. The worn wooden floorboards creak with each step like they are responding to the growing clarity of the strings that now reach your ears, no longer muffled but rich and full.
The baseline of Dreams smooths into its final notes, and applause thunders from the audience. Eddie pauses, his hand resting lightly on your back, guiding you to a halt. You step between him and the canopy of curtains gathered at the stage’s edge, the sounds of the crowd's approval dissipating into the cavernous space. The polished instruments rest in the orchestra’s hands, poised for their next cue. Your hand flies to your mouth as the sight of The Cranberries at center stage fully registers. Dolores O’Riordan’s head turns, catching Eddie’s gaze. With an exasperated look, she taps the watch strapped to her wrist. He mouths a “Sorry,” his head tilting slightly towards you. At that moment, her brown eyes connect with yours. A hint of a smile graces her face before she turns back to the audience, her voice resonating in the stillness, "I was saving this one."
The first sigh of the violin expands with your breath, an arrow soaring through the air, piercing the center of your chest. A thrum of a calloused thumb brushing over the strings of an acoustic guitar accompanies the “Ahhs” of her lilting voice. The harmony is echoed by a cello, then a viola, and another violin, each repetition weaving into the next like a ripple of raindrops on calm water until it all fades into a hush, leaving your stomach swooping in its wake.
The silence shatters with the bold strum of the guitar. The air leaves your lungs in unison with the crashing bassline, the full swell of the strings washing over you like an ocean wave.
If you, if you could return
Don't let it burn
Don't let it fade
In the auditorium's darkness, the audience vanishes until only you and he exist. Eddie stands close, his warmth seeping into you as he presses into you with his shoulder. Clove and tobacco mix with the tang of iron and polished wood. The back of his hand grazes the soft skin of your own, but it’s the stage that holds your attention, pulling you in deeper.
Is that the way we stand?
Were you lying all the time?
Was it just a game to you?
The accompanying musicians close their eyes, becoming extensions of their instruments. Dolores tilts her head, her voice clear and strong, pouring from her slight frame. The music rises through the aged floorboards, tremors of notes climbing your legs and bursting within your chest. Stirring emotions so immense it threatens to spill over as tears sting behind your eyes.
Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
Your head turns and you find Eddie has been watching you the entire time. His throat bobs as he swallows, the bright lights reflecting the shine in his eyes, and now it's you who can't look away. The soft expression he wears is tender and novel. The black lines that have always connected you pull taut, tugging at your heart. Lines that you thought were severed by anger and loneliness.
But I was wrong, I was wrong
But somehow, they’ve remained. Tattered and a little frayed but enduring all the same. At his core, he is who he’s always been, and so are you.
Things wouldn't be so confused
And I wouldn't feel so used
But you always really knew
I just want to be with you
Two souls found each other in the darkness, singing the same song. He brought you here for a reason—he's telling you he's sorry without words, reaching for you through the melody in a way you can't ignore—in a way that matters.
And I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
Everything falls away, but the music and your shared heartbeats. Memories flicker, like pages of a faded scrapbook caught in the wind—sunlit and shadowed. The heavy musk of aged velvet curtains shifts into the fresh scent of cut grass and summer nights, the cool touch of lakewater, and the honeyed warmth of sunshine lingering on his skin. Hummed lyrics, shared laughter, the comfort of being by his side. You liked the version of yourself reflected in his eyes.
Recollections you locked away come back in a deluge. Past moments, both sweet and sharp, weave together, softening the edges of old wounds. Each verse, each look from him, peels back layers of hurt you’d clung to. The bitter shell around your heart begins to crack, dislodging the shards within. Lighter now, your wounds can start to mend. The remaining scars are reminders, but a warmth begins to unfurl in their place, reluctant and bewildering. It’s not forgiveness yet, but the possibility is closer for him and for yourself.
You got me wrapped around your finger
Notes spiral upwards, threading through the shadow-laden lattice of ropes and rigging until they dissipate into the darkness above. Under the glare of the stage lights, the harmonies that once defined you rekindle, sparking to life. Your fingers find his with intention, intertwining with deliberate grace, palm to palm, sliding, locked together. Warmth spreads through the both of you. It's unexpected the way lyrics unravel you, making room for something new. Your gaze leaves his, returning to the performance, but you lean into Eddie, your head tipping to rest on his shoulder. The breath releases from his chest in a shuddering sigh. And he feels an awful lot like home.
Do you have to let it linger?
Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?
Listen to the acoustic version of Linger here Rest in peace, Delores. Ni bheidh a leitheid ann aris.
Big, huge, giant, hugs and sloppy wet kisses for sticking with me. I know the wait was long. Your encouragement got me through it. Especially Leighanne and Taylor who had to put up with me whining.
All your song suggestions have made this fic so fun to write. Please keep 'em coming.
We are about halfway through, kittens. It's about to get bumpy.
For updates follow @tornupdates
#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie munson smut#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson fanfic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#stranger things fanfic#torn series
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
mornings, part three
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI
cw: rafe x fem!reader, talk about use of drugs, dealing, one minor head injury, sad!rafe, soft!rafe, a little bit of angst, fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), nipple sucking, makeup sex, piv, creampie, pet names during sex, praise, etc.
an: i hope you all like part three! i want to quickly thank you again for the love shown for parts one and two. i cannot wait to continue writing. the interactions mean more than i can ever express.
part one part two
the silence that enveloped you was a strikingly peaceful contrast from the loud echo of a gunshot that rang in your ears.
sarah’s scream the moment you hit the ground ran a deep chill through rafe’s body. it was the sight of you, crumpled up on the beach, that snapped him out of his cocaine-fueled rage.
as people at the boneyard ran from jj firing off the gun, you lay perfectly still. rafe jumped into action, running over to you. he cradled your head and to his horror, he felt liquid on one of his hands. you had sustained a small cut to the back of your head when you passed out, an unfortunately placed rock being in the same landing spot as your skull.
when rafe pulled one of his hands away from the back of your head his skin turned nearly white. he looked up at sarah, tears forming in his eyes as he yelled for her to get kie. something in him changed, he realized in that moment how close he was to truly losing you.
kie told rafe to move as she lifted your head, supporting your neck so that she could try and feel for the injury. rafe stood up, walking absentmindedly to the ocean where he rid his stomach of the alcohol he’d drank earlier to try and numb the pain of seeing you again. he felt a hand rubbing his back and looked over to see sarah.
“she’s okay, rafe. she just got a cut from a rock. kie said everything else feels okay.” rafe felt a surge of relief go through him.
he went back over to you, salty tears cascading down his cheeks as he gently held you, “i love you. i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so, so sorry. you need to wake up though, we gotta get you out of here.”
you began to come out of unconsciousness, just barely catching rafe’s words as the pounding in your head hit you. you harshly shut your eyes, the noise from kie and pope yelling at jj only intensified the pain.
rafe hushed them, shooting a glare towards jj. “hi my sweet girl,” he whispered softly to you, running his hand gently over your forehead.
you opened your eyes to see him. your heart began racing, it had been so long since you’d been this close to him. the way he looked at you, his usually icy blue eyes now warm with concern, filled your stomach with butterflies. “rafe,” you croaked out, your face twisting at the sound of your own scratchy voice, “my head hurts.”
“i know. just hang in there f’me, okay? we’re gonna get you home.” he picked you up bridal style, silently looking over to sarah to ask her to come with. she quickly nodded, following after him.
the drive back to tannyhill was quiet. you were in the backseat, lying down with your head on rafe’s lap as sarah drove.
the anger you’d been harboring towards the cameron boy was set aside. it was difficult for you to have the energy to be mad when his eyes were glossy with unshed tears, holding you like his life depended upon it.
rafe carried you into the silent home, bringing you to the bathroom where he grabbed a first aid kit. he dabbed at the cut on the back of your head, holding your chin to keep you still.
“this might hurt a little, just stay still,” he murmured as he focused.
you winced at the initial contact, letting out a slight whimper, “shhh, you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
the gentle tone in his voice made you want to cry. it felt like it had been stolen away from you so long ago, a precious artifact that was a mere memory of your once perfect relationship.
rafe caught the slight wobble in your bottom lip, quickly pulling away from the back of your head. your eyes opened at the sudden lack of contact to see the frown on his lips, “are you okay? was it hurting too much?”
“no, no, it’s okay.” you responded, holding his gaze. rafe nodded softly, finishing up cleaning the small wound before looking you over. you could tell his head was swarming with thoughts, the way he furrowed his brows and brought his bottom lip between his teeth was a dead giveaway.
a part of you was tempted to question him, to ask what he was thinking about and pick his brain to pull out the answers you so desperately wanted. the other part of you told you not to. the possibility of some of your worst fears becoming the truth would completely break you now.
it took you a moment to register the sound of rafe's voice, your eyes snapped up at him, "i'm sorry, what was that?"
"i asked if you needed help walking back to my room."
"why would i be going to your room?" you questioned him, a bit thrown off by his firm tone.
"because you hit your head, it's getting late, and you don't have a way to drive home right now. plus, somebody needs to watch over you to make sure you're okay." he responded, his voice matter-of-fact.
"and that means i'm supposed to crawl into your bed and act like everything's normal?" you laughed humorlessly, the bubbling anger in the back of your mind beginning to rise again.
rafe brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it as he took in a deep breath to keep his cool. "don't argue with me right now. you're not going home. you are going to get into bed and let me watch over you."
your shoulders slumped, you knew he was right. with a small huff you jumped down from the countertop, walking into his room and immediately going to his closet to grab one of his t-shirts to sleep in. rafe had followed behind you, not saying a word as you fell into what used to be your normal routine before bed with him.
he stripped down to his boxers while you wanted to hit your head against the wall, your heart betraying your brain as it began to race at the sight of his muscular body.
you rubbed your eyes, attempting to rid yourself of those thoughts before you crawled into your side of his bed. you couldn't help but wonder to yourself if anyone else had slept in this spot, your spot, since you broke up. the idea made you feel nauseated and had your skin crawling.
you shivered at the idea, turning over so that your back was to rafe. you knew you couldn't look at him, not when this felt far more intimate than you were comfortable with. your entire body lay stiff, the tension between you two could have been cut with a knife.
"rafe?" you whispered out, keeping your eyes focused on the small sliver of moonlight that seeped its way through his curtains.
"yeah, kid?"
"why'd you do it?" you felt adrenaline rush through your body, the type of feeling you get after you send a risky text and throw your phone away from you, wanting to know the response but also being terrified of what may be coming.
he was quiet for a moment, "do what?"
"cheat."
"i didn't... i didn't cheat on you." his voice held a vault of emotions. you couldn't bring yourself to face him, unknowingly missing the key to that vault, the way he looked at you like the thought of choosing someone over you would kill him.
"what were you doing with her then?"
"will you please look at me?" rafe's voice wavered slightly, the fear of you rejecting him was unmistakable.
you hesitated, your breath catching in your throat. it was easier to have this conversation when you couldn't see him, it was easier to pretend as though this was just in your head and not a part of your current reality. however, the way his voice wavered tugged at your heart. his vulnerability, that you'd missed so much, made you feel like you had to turn over.
once you moved so you were facing him, you could tell he was holding back his emotions. it was a look you were all too familiar with, one you'd seen many times when rafe would come to you after he'd been in a fight with ward. he always feared that crying made him weak, ward had instilled that into him from a young age, among other things.
he inhaled a shaky breath, "i-i would never cheat on you. i fucked up, badly, but not in that way."
you gave him a confused look, "what do you mean? and if you weren't cheating on me, then why did you let her touch you? why'd you look at her like that? you... you changed rafe. the last few months of our relationship you became a completely different person, you weren't the man i fell in love with."
he winced slightly at your words. "i know," he looked upset with himself, "i- i lost a lot of my dad's money. it was a stupid deal i thought i was in on and the guy ended up fucking me over. i started using again, but i didn't want you to know. i knew how disappointed you'd be. i thought i could just do it a couple times, to feel better. but that turned into me owing barry more and more money. he told me i could pay him back by working for him, selling at parties."
you were disappointed in him, disappointed that he didn't tell you sooner. "rafe... why didn't you say something? instead of leaving me in the dark, literally. i can't count on two hands the number of times i waited for you to come home, just to cry myself to sleep in your bed. this also doesn't explain what happened at the country club." your tone was firm, but not angry.
"her name is sofia. she saw me at one of top's parties and wanted to buy, but by the time she meant to, i'd left. i didn't like her touching me, but she wanted to buy a lot. it would have paid off a decent amount of money i owe."
you analyzed his face, his words, the tone of his voice, anything and everything to try and figure out if he was telling the truth. you knew the way his eyes would dart around the room when he lied, eye contact made it too hard for him, the way he'd pick at the skin around his fingernails as a distraction from the guilt that would arise in his stomach. he wasn't expressing any of his usual tells.
"have- have you been with anyone? since i left?" you asked nervously.
"no- god, no. baby, i've been a wreck. i... i stopped trying to reach out because i knew you needed space. i'm so sorry for how i treated you, i love you more than anything in the world." rafe professed to you, spilling out his emotions that could no longer be held back.
a tear slipped from the corner of his eye and you gently reached your thumb up to wipe it away. the way he leaned into your touch truly made the walls you'd built up crumble away. the small action was a bulldozer, taking them out like they were made of snow.
"i love you too, rafe. i just... i'm scared that you're going to drift away again. that broke me, i've been a shell of a person for the past month. i can't go through that another time." your voice came out just above a whisper, a sad smile on your face as a tear of your own fell down your cheek.
he shook his head, "i promise i won't shut you out again. i can't lose you. you're everything to me, i don't- i won't ever go through another day not talking to you."
he wrapped his large arms around you, pulling you close against his bare chest as he rested his chin on top of your head. you couldn't stop the tears that began falling. you'd be the world's worst liar if you said you didn't miss him, that this wasn't the only thing you'd truly wanted the last month, that you didn't love this man with your entire heart.
he placed a firm kiss on your hairline, "i love you."
"i love you too, rafe."
"let me make it up to you," he whispered against your forehead, moving you back slightly so he could look you in the eyes. you nodded, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.
he gently flipped you over, laying you on your back as he crawled over you. his arms rested on both sides of your head, caging you in. he brought his rough thumbs to your cheeks, wiping the tears away and placing kisses were they once were.
"you're so beautiful, my perfect girl." he murmured against your skin. you felt a rush of electricity jolt through you, going straight to your core at his words.
his lips met yours. the initial kiss was gentle, sweet, and full of love. they quickly became heated though, the rough dance of your lips was full of unspoken words telling of how badly your bodies needed each other.
your hands moved up and down his torso. the feeling of his warm skin underneath your fingertips made your cheeks heat up. he lifted the hem of his shirt on you, breaking apart your kiss momentarily so he could take it off of you.
his lips went to your jawline, trailing down your neck and to your collarbone. he sucked on your sweet spot, undoubtedly leaving marks that you'd attempt to hide when you went home tomorrow.
your soft moans were a melody to his ears, his favorite song that he'd never get tired of hearing. his mouth moved down to your nipples. he gently took one between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to bring you a sensation of pain that was incredibly pleasureful. his hand reached up to your other nipple, twisting it between his fingers. you squeezed your thighs together, trying to bring yourself a little bit of relief.
rafe tsked, he pulled away from your tits, the loss of contact making you whimper. though he moved down, spreading your thighs apart as he left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach. he hovered over you, the spot you needed him most radiating heat.
he smirked at you, bringing his thumb to circle around your clit softly through your panties. "rafe, please," you whined out.
"please what, baby? use your words." he taunted.
"need you to touch me." your slightly swollen lips forming into a pout.
he couldn't deny you now, not when you looked so sweet, so needy, like an angel sent just for him. "that's my good girl." he said as he pulled down your last bit of clothing, revealing your wet cunt to him.
"such a pretty pussy." you couldn't tell if rafe was speaking to you or to himself. he gazed at your core like a starved man. in a swift motion, he brought his arms underneath your legs, hooking them over his shoulders as his lips attached to your clit. your breath caught in your throat, the moans that fell from your lips were impossible to silence.
he groaned as your fingers moved down to tug at his hair, the vibrations causing you to screw your eyes shut tightly. he could never, would never get tired of tasting you.
his cock throbbed against his boxers. he began grinding his hips against his mattress, you could have sworn it was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.
"need you inside of me, please." you whined out, trying to pull him up closer to you. he pulled away from your dripping mess, meeting your lips with his. his tongue pried its way into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
you tugged at his boxers, moving the fabric down so his cock sprung out. the sight of him, red with pre-cum smeared around the tip, only encouraged you further. you pushed them as far down as you could reach and he helped you out by taking them off.
"lay back." he demanded, and you complied. he licked his lips at your nude body, "you're so perfect. all mine. my angel."
he grabbed his cock, pumping it a few times before he lined it up with your cunt. the initial push in stole your breath away. the stretch of him always taking you a moment to get used to. he moved slowly, hips going inch by inch until he was all the way inside of you.
"fuck, sweetheart. always so fuckin' good for me." he bit his lip as he groaned.
"please, rafe. need you to move." he didn't think he could deny you anything when you spoke like that, not that he would ever want to. he moved back, pulling away until just the tip remained inside of you, before thrusting back in all the way.
your back arched at the feeling. he filled you perfectly. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and both of your moans filled the room. they bounced off the walls, echoing your need for each other. he grabbed the backs of your knees, folding your legs up so you were nearly in half. the new position allowed him to reach a deeper angle.
"rafe, feels- feels so good. missed you s'much." he sped up his thrusts at your whimpers. he was overcome by the lust that swirled around his head, clouding his thoughts so he couldn't think of a single thing other than how amazing you felt wrapped around him.
when rafe brought his thumb down to your clit, you saw stars. you felt tears come to your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure.
"just like that, just like that, please. 'm so close." rafe's eyes rolled back at your pleas. the way you begged him made him pushed him closer and closer to his peak.
"cum for me, my sweet girl. cum around my cock, you've been doing so good f'me. i'm right behind you." his permission is what send you over the edge. your walls clenched around him as you threw your head back, your vision going white. you yelled out his name, telling the entire world that you were his and he was yours.
rafe was telling the truth, seconds after you fluttered around him he gave one last thrust into you. he held you close to him as his cock pulsed inside of you, filling you up with his cum.
"i love you. i love you. i love you." he moaned out as he orgasmed. his words were a promise to you. he's loved you since the day he met you, nothing could ever change that.
you both breathed heavily as he fell next to you. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest as he kissed your forehead. you looked up at him, giving him a tired, but very satisfied, smile. he couldn't help but give you one in return. the rafe you'd missed so dearly was back, you saw him in the way he looked at you now.
"as badly as i don't want you to get up, you need to go pee." he reminded you gently, giving you a soft pat on your butt.
you groaned, "think you need to carry me. my legs aren't gonna work right now."
rafe let out a laugh, a genuine laugh. it was your favorite sound in the world, it made your heart flutter like you were a school girl who was just noticed by her crush for the first time.
he picked you up, walking you over to his bathroom as he set you down on the toilet. he cleaned himself up and put a clean pair of boxers on, grabbing a new t-shirt for you to sleep in.
that night you fell asleep in his arms. you didn't need to take a benzo to sleep. you didn't pass out with tear-stains on your cheeks or your throat sore from crying. you slept through the entire night, not once having a nightmare that ended in an explosive breakup between you and rafe. and in the morning, when you woke up, rafe was right next to you. he was asleep, his features being illuminated by the morning sun, his limbs tangled with yours, his gentle breathing that had his chest rising and falling beneath your head, it was all him. it was perfect. you couldn't stop the large smile that spread across your face, you could stay like this forever. mornings with him will always be your favorite, after all.
#divider creds: xxbimbobunnyxx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x fem!reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe obx#rafe fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#obx fic#obx
366 notes
·
View notes
Text
On God I was working on the AEIWAM Outline today but I also got "The AEIWAM cast, post-fic, go to the Aquarium" brainrot so have this:
It kicks off with Retsu seeing Kenpachi deep in thought for once and asking him what he's mulling over and after a moment he asks:
"Are there zoos for fish?"
"...Pardon?"
"There are lotsa fish," he reasons, "-at least as many as there are land animals, but they're all really hard to see, because they're in the water."
Retsu considers him for a moment before gently asking "Do you mean The Aquarium?"
"The what?"
Retsu, texting Ichigo in the Gotei-13 Groupchat at 2AM: I need you to acquire tickets and human chaperones for a group field trip to The Aquarium
Ichigo, who fears her above everyone else in soul society: Yes, Captain.
Retsu: If it was just the SWA I'd only ask for tickets but you know what The Lads are like.
Ichigo: Unfortunately, Yes.
Ichigo: I'll bring the first aid kit, zip ties, duct tape and candy.
Retsu: Good man.
Upon Arrival, Kenpachi has already been lectured about "You ARE NOT ALLOWED to fight and/or eat the fish, no matter how annoying and/or delicious they look
Turns out they were lecturing the wrong guy because it's Byakuya that develops a personal rivalry with a grouper ("It's smug expression disgusts me." "Captain that is a FISH.") and has to be talked out of climbing into the tank to fight it
after that he has to hold hands with Rukia or Renji.
Rukia discovers Sea Bunnies and ends up crying about them.
Yachiru gets to see them feeding the Piranha and it's a Spiritual Experience for her.
Later, she gets to see them feed the sharks and it's an EVEN BETTER spiritual Experience.
Hitsugaya learns Penguins are real and not just 'made up for christmas, like the flying reindeer and the guy with the suspect toy charity'.
Momo lights into him about "Penguins are my favorite animal, they've been my favorite animal for decades YOU THOUGHT THEY WERE FAKE?"
Hitsugaya: "YOU ALSO USED TO LIKE UNICORNS!"
Momo: "THOSE ARE ALSO REAL!"
Orihime: "They are?"
Momo: "...I keep forgetting they're extinct in the living world."
Tousen gets to experience the Touch Pool and the docents realize what's up so they start pulling out the cool stuff like sea hares and moray eels because he's an adult that can be trusted to pet things gently.
When the group comes back to collect him the staff is letting him hand feed a Pacific Red Octopus, and Yachiru immediately demands she be allowed to as well.
Retsu quietly releases Minazuki into the stingray touch pool so she can "go play with her cousins :)"
Kenpachi and Yamamoto asking "Can we eat it?" about every. single. animal.
The extremely dedicated docent that is *just* Psychic enough to know something is up with this group of chucklefucks so they're following them through the aquarium, but is also genuinely having fun answering every fucking insane question these guys ask.
Yoruichi was not anticipating there to be Tigers at the aquarium (they ARE semi-aquatic and part of a larger exhibit on Tropical Riparian Ecosystems) and she is SUPER NOT JEALOUS of how much Urahara and Baby Labcat like them.
There is also an exhibit with an Anaconda that the docent finds Rangiku staring at with a forlorn expression.
Docent: "It's okay, not everyone is a fan of snakes."
Rangiku: "What? Oh, no, I love snakes. They just also remind me of my Ex."
Docent: *WomanTryingToDoMath.Meme*
Docent: *Considers the size of the Anaconda*
Docent: "...Ah. Yeah, I'd miss a man like that too."
Renji, Ichigo and Ikkaku going "Its YOU!" to each other over every single red, orange or round creature.
Kenpachi going "IT ME!!" about the black urchins before anyone can get him though.
Shunsui pointing at the sea otters that are holding hands and declaring, tears in his eyes "Jushiro! It's US!"
Ukitake then prompty ruins the moment by telling Shunsui Fun Facts about Sea Otters like how they're basically giant marine weasels that will absolutely drown each other's young and maul anyone dumb enough to touch one.
The Dolphins all love Komamura and he is just a little bit smug about this.
Relatedly, not sure if its funnier for Komamura to show up in a Human Gigai, or as Tousen's "Service Dog"
Human Gigai:
-Komamura is weirdly stony-faced and sort of intimidating and everyone thinks he's stressed out but really he's used to making micro-expressions and gesturing with his ears so he sorta just forgot how to move his face.
-Still Nine and a Half feet tall and smacking his head on Everything
Service Dog:
-"He's uh. A Shepherd. Mix." Ichigo says to the aforementioned Docent about what is very obviously a Bigass Timber Wolf.
-Sajin doesn't give a rat's ass about his cover and keeps talking to Tousen while in dog form. If anyone looks at him funny he makes direct eye contact and says "Woof. Bark."
Yamamoto vs. Escalator. Catastrophic Beard Incident. 2 injured, 16 Dead but they were like that already.
Ukitake, Retsu, and Tama all Not Shutting Up With Facts About Every Fish Ever because they all share a Special Interest.
They briefly lose Byakuya in the Jellyfish exhibit because Rukia and Renji both thought the other one was holding Byakuya's hand and he is *enchanted* by the wall-sized tank of Moon Jellies.
Ikkaku attempting to talk Yachiru out of getting the ridiculously oversized Great White Shark plushie only for Zaraki to get it for both of them instead.
Everyone had a great time and is Very Tired and so they don't realize anything is amiss until they get back to Ichigo's place and the nightly news comes on.
"Hey ichigo?" Yuzu calls. "Why is Ms. Unohana on TV?"
The news has a story with a still image of Retsu on CCTV and "Authorities are looking for this woman who somehow ADDED a fully intact and highly venomous short-tailed stingray to the aquarium's touch pool"
"OH MY GOD WE FORGOT MINAZUKI!"
#AEIWAM#An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy#Bleach#Bleach fanfic#retsu unohana#kenpachi zaraki#jushiro ukitake#Genryusai Yamamoto#kaname tousen#sajin komamura#yachiru kusajishi#rukia kuchiki#byakuya kuchiki#renji abarai#ichigo kurosaki
885 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
wyccka-art
Artist
alicehattera03
Writer's Haven
chippergoose
Chipper
dazzling-chanyeol
Kimi no kokoro ga hikaraseteiru