#but its hard to bring up any kind of enthusiasm right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

msgexymunson · 8 months

Text

Sammy's Mom

Description: Eddie Munson finds it difficult to get over his fantasies about you, his best friend's mom. He tries so hard to keep it in check. The only problem? Sammy's mom has got it going on.

A/N: kind of a little nod to the song "Stacey's Mom" (which is 20 years old now BTW, so if you remember it it's time to take aspirin for your back pain), I've written too much older Eddie in my time so trying to balance it out, as I've given him far too much rizz! And his friend is called Sammy as I've watched a lot of Supernatural recently. Please comment and reblog if you enjoy this my sweethearts.

Warnings: where do I start lmao, NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll slap you with a wet fish, age gap, Eddie's 21, reader is early 40s, MILF reader, reader referred to as 'Mrs F' a few times no first name given, perv Eddie, voyeurism, male masturbation, very slight foot fetish (nothing actually happens), oral both male and female receiving, p in v unprotected sex, slight anal play, cum eating.

10.5k words

Masterlist

"UNCLE EDDIE!!"

Johnny's little six year old voice rings out like a bell in the front yard. You look out the window and see him running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards a young man getting out of a beat up van.

"Hey Squirt!" Crouching to his knees, he accepts your kids embrace, then stands with him, swinging him around in the air as Johnny shrieks uncontrollably, unbridled joy brimming from his chest. The next minute he's got Johnny on his shoulders, walking around the house to the back yard.

You smile at their antics, warmed at the gesture. Eddie has always been good with your youngest son when he comes to visit Sammy, your oldest. It was nice, him having another man around to look up to, even if he really needs to remember to watch his language.

Voices sound from the back yard; Eddie had found Sammy and as usual, they were loud and laughing. Not that you minded at all, any laughter those kids could get was music to your ears.

You grab your sunglasses and perch them on top of your head, searching around for your gardening tools. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and you wanted to be near the kids at least. Grasping your pruners and gardening gloves in one hand and a cooler in the other, you make your way to the rear of the house.

Pushing the back door open with a hip, you see Sammy is already in the pool. Johnny is still talking a mile a minute at Eddie, as he sits on the edge of a lawn chair.

Well, he's certainly grown up.

Eddie's shirtless, sitting there in his long black swimming trunks. There's a new tattoo on his ribs but you can't make it out from this distance. He's looking toned; his jaw is sharper, with shoulders broader than you remember. He's become a man.

When the hell did that happen?

Shaking your head out of your temporary revelry, you walk over to the pair of them. The snippets of conversation you overhear as you approach widen the smile on your face.

"So, you think of any new monsters for me big guy?"

Johnny beams at Eddie with pride. "Yeah! So right, it's like, a big bat thing right? With metal bits all over, and- and- then it's got these huuuuge teeth, and- and- when he opens its mouth the teeth fly out, right, and turn into bats!!"

He starts excitedly flapping his arms around and screeching as Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.

"Bats huh? That's sick. Pretty metal, squirt. Have to add that to the campaign."

Johnny beams at the praise, staring down at his hand, trying to work out his fingers, then flashes the devil horn hand at him triumphantly.

"Johnny honey, do you want to play in the pool? Give Uncle Eddie a chance to breathe?"

"Yeah! Can I do cannonballs? Can I can I can I?"

His enthusiasm always brings a smile to your face. "Sure thing honey, just don't go in the deep end, 'K?"

"Kay!" He flashes a thousand watt smile at you and runs off, calling to his brother.

Your gaze returns to Eddie, who you are sure was just checking you out. His eyes flick to yours almost guiltily.

"Brought some beers out for you both. Here." Passing him the cooler, your hands brush briefly, the slight touch running a shiver down your spine despite the heat.

"Thanks Mrs F."

Eddie licks his lips and you trace the movement with your eyes.

"Mom! What are you wearing?"

Sammy has exited the pool, dripping water everywhere. You look down at your outfit. You were wearing a two piece, slightly skimpier than your usual swimwear, and a pair of jean hotpants.

"Sammy love, it's hot. I'm in my backyard. What am I supposed to do? Dress like a nun?"

Eddie snorts a laugh next to you.

"But you're all… exposed mom."

"Sammy, shut up. Your mom can wear what she wants."

"Yeah? You're only saying that because you-"

But you're destined to never hear the end of that sentence as Eddie pushes him into the pool. Water splashes everywhere, and Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. The gesture has you staring yet again, looking at the skin on his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobs. A mad idea enters your head; what if you just darted your tongue out and licked over it? Decorated that delicate skin with kisses? Nipped at the sides of his throat with your teeth?

Eddie makes eye contact with you then, and you quickly look away. He was sure you were eyeing him up, almost certain of it. Hell, he's been staring at you for years, mapping your curves with his eyes, knowing he'll never get a chance to feel them under his hands, but the look you just gave him made his stomach twist.

Before your thoughts can go any further you tear yourself away and over to the rose bushes. You deadhead the rose bush as if your life depends on it, furiously snipping and cutting, as if you're trying to trim back the impure thoughts you're having.

After a while, the bushes are looking a lot neater. Stepping back, you remove your gardening gloves and swipe the sweat beads on your brow with the back of your hand.

"Mrs F, you wanna beer?"

You turn to see Eddie laying on a sun lounger, waving a cold one. As you walk towards him he stands up to hand it to you.

"That a new tattoo Eddie?" You ask, pointing to his abdomen. He looks taken aback by your question but responds nonetheless.

"Yeah, you like it?"

Your hand drifts towards him almost instinctively, only realising when his muscles tense under your soft touch. It's a scorpion, surrounded in a wreath of flames. Tracing it with your fingers, you circle it slowly. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest. A slow moan escapes Eddie's lips which pulls you out of wherever the hell you were heading. The heat must have gotten to your head. Pulling back your fingers, you respond.

"Yeah, I like it. Metal."

Looking up around him through your lashes, your eyes meet his. He looks flushed, cheeks heating at your stare.

"You OK Eddie?"

"Y-yeah, fine. I'm gonna have a dip in the pool."

He shuffles awkwardly off, nearly bent double. All his strange stance does is draw attention to the tent in his swimming trunks that has appeared. It's really rather large; to your amazement, you can't seem to take your eyes off it. Eddie dives into the pool, swimming over to your son.

Did I just do that?

You shake your head, banishing thoughts of Eddie's package, and head off to the kitchen to clean some dishes.

As Eddie rushes into the pool, he's wishing the cool water would shrink the raging hard on he just got.

Fuck, you look so good today. That skimpy bikini top barely covering the curves of your tits; them damn near spilling out of the top. Those tiny shorts, framing your hips and ass perfectly. Then you had to go and touch him. That had him nearly busting in his pants. He can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. A crazy thought he shouldn't be entertaining.

He dips his head under the water trying to cool the blood that had rushed to his cheeks.

You had to be at least 40. Sammy's Dad had been out of the picture for a while, he knew that much. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a little lonely; maybe that's why you had been flirting with him. Or it was entirely Eddie's imagination and he just needs to jerk off and get it out of his system.

As he gets out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, he thinks he sees you looking at him through the kitchen window, but he can't be sure.

"Dude, why have you got a boner?" Sammy points at him from the water, forcing Eddie to cup his erection, trying to hide it from prying eyes.

"I can't help it!" He whisper shouts, cheeks flushing anew, "your mom's hot!"

"Eddie! Don't say that, that's gross!" Sammy slings back, pulling a disgusted face.

"Hey it's not, she's a total fox, what can I do, it's like, biological, she's a babe!"

Little did he know you can hear every word, pressing your lips together firmly to suppress a laugh as you dry up a cup in the kitchen.

"She's like, really old, and she's my mom for God's sake!"

"Hey, rude, she's not that old. You think she's into younger guys?" You can hear the smile in his voice, he's clearly just trying to wind Sammy up now, but your thighs clench together at the thought. The cup in your hands is dry as a bone right now.

"Eddie shut the f-"

"What's a boner?" The little voice is clear and loud, cutting through the argument.

A loud laugh shoots from your chest uncontrollably. You try to mask it with your hand but there's nothing you can do, it's out there now.

Eddie's head whips around to face the house, flicking water droplets in its wake.

"Oh shit." It's low, but loud enough to hear.

Making your way back outside, you call out to Johnny to save either of them answering the awkward question.

"Come on kid, you want a snack?"

"Yeah mommy! Shit!" Eddie's mouth drops open.

"What did I say about copying Eddie" you ask sternly.

He parrots back in a sing-song voice, "don't copy Eddie, Eddie is dirty."

"That's right. Come on, inside." He runs past you in the way only a child can, feet flat on the floor slapping on the concrete.

Eddie steps a little closer to you.

"I'm so sorry Mrs F it won't-"

"Hey, it's OK," you reply, stepping to meet him. You drop your voice lower, hand up as if you're telling a secret. On autopilot, Eddie leans towards you to hear your whisper, close enough to smell your shampoo.

"Sometimes mommy's dirty too."

Turning on your heel, you walk back into the house without a glance, leaving Eddie with his jaw on the floor.

Where the hell did that come from?

You try to steady your breathing as you go inside. That was reckless of you, he's half your age. You admonish yourself, telling your brain that you need to stop flirting with the poor boy.

Eddie's frozen on the spot. It's clear you overheard their little conversation, and then you come out with something like that? It's definitely not his imagination at this point. For a crazy moment he thinks he might actually have a shot at you.

Stop it. She's Sammy's mother for Christ's sake. Pull yourself together Munson.

"Imma take a quick shower if that's alright and get, er, changed. You wanna work on the campaign some more?" Eddie says it over his shoulder to Sammy, not daring to turn. He's never been so hard in all his life.

"Sure, just stay out of my mom's room."

Eddie laughs nervously, "who do you think I am?" As he walks to the house.

"Eddie fuckin' Munson." Sammy mutters under his breath.

As he stumbles into the house with his bundle of clothes over his crotch, he catches another glimpse of you, on your hands and knees searching in a cupboard.

"Honey, I don't think we've got any animal crackers left." You say over your shoulder to a pouting Johnny.

You're barely contained in your jean hot pants, the denim tight against your perfect ass.

"Fuckin' hell" Eddie mutters under his breath, tearing his eyes away to make his way upstairs.

He practically runs up the stairs, tripping slightly on the last step. Flinging his body into the bathroom, he shuts and locks the door.

Five seconds later he's in the shower with his hand wrapped around his slippery cock, tugging on it as if it were his last day on earth.

Fuck, why does she have to be so fine?

He's whimpering and stifling breathy moans as he cums hard in less than five minutes. Shame snags its sneaky claws into his heart then, as he hangs his head under the shower head. He needs to get it together before the thought of you ruins him completely.

********************

Knocking on your eldest son's door, he calls out for you to enter. Both him and Eddie are sitting on the bed, a pile of books and notes between them. You do your best to ignore the smoky weed smell as you address him.

"Sammy, I'm heading out, you still OK to take care of Johnny?"

"Woah, Mrs F you look h-" Sammy elbows him in the ribs before he can finish the sentence, "-very nice." Eddie finishes lamely.

A smile spreads over your face at his words. Your date tonight was nothing special, not really, but the need growing between your legs needed to be sorted out somehow. So, you'd dressed to impress; a red figure hugging dress, ending just at the knee, with matching slingbacks. Your hair was down, hanging past your shoulders in soft curls.

"Mom, I'm going to Tiffany's, to stay over, remember?" Sammy responds, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at you.

"That was tonight?" Well, fuck. "Your grandma's coming to pick Johnny up at 9, can't you stay until then?

"I can watch him."

You both turn to look at Eddie. He looks just as surprised as you two at his words.

"I can watch him, no problem. I ain't got anywhere to be tonight."

Eddie doesn't know why he offered. Well, in part he did. He might get to see you again in that dress later.

"Thanks Eddie, you're a lifesaver. I can pay-"

"Oh no, don't worry about it." He flashes a grin which does something to your insides, melting them just a little.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Johnny's downstairs watching TV, he's had dinner, just need to wait for my mom to pick him up. You sure it's OK?"

"Of course, it's no problem."

"OK, well make yourself at home." You give him a winning smile of your own which makes his face flush red.

"Oh, and Sammy?"

"Yeah mom?"

"Use protection."

"Mom!"

You laugh and shut the door, heading off to your date.

********************

The date was a total bust, not that you'd expected anything less. Greg from accounting was nice, sure; kind of handsome, in a middle aged balding kind of way. A reliable sort of guy. Then, when the dinner was over and he kissed you, you knew there was no way it was going to go any further. So, you'd refused his invitation to go to a bar, made your excuses and got a cab home.

Standing outside your house, you look at the time. 9:30. Rock and roll. You huff into the humid night air at how old you must seem right now, and open your front door.

"Eddie!"

Sprawled on the sofa, manspreading, sits Eddie. A beer rests on the coffee table, and the TV is blaring out some horror film.

He scrambles to his feet looking like he's about to be told off.

"Mrs F, sorry, erm, your mom's not here yet, she called saying she was running late-"

As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. You open it, and see your mom standing there, pushing past you in a cloud of perfume.

"Hey love, so sorry I'm late!" She looks at you, then Eddie. "Is this your date?"

Blushing a furious red, you shake your head.

"Oh, no this is Sammy's friend, he was watching Johnny for a bit."

"Oh, the young man I spoke to on the phone. Shame, he's very handsome." She winks at you.

"Mom!"

Eddie looks like he's about to die from blood loss; his face is so drained it's ghostly white.

"I-I'll go get squirt," he stumbles out awkwardly.

"Mom, please behave." You whisper when he's left the room.

"I'm behaving! I thought you were on a date, what happened?"

"He wasn't my type."

"Well, you should find someone who is. How long has it been?"

You run your hand through your hair, feeling a little more confrontational than usual due to the alcohol in your veins.

"Mom, just drop it. I'm fine!"

"OK, OK! That babysitter is a fine looking young man-"

"Mom!"

"Mommy!" You turn just in time for Johnny to grab your legs in a hard hug, squishy cheek pushing against your thigh.

"We went on an adventure! I'm a Knight, I saved the lady! There was gobbins and stuff!" His little eyes shine, staring at Eddie in pure adoration.

"Really? Well done! Sounds amazing love. Go on, go with nanna. I love you."

"OK! Love you mom! Bye Uncle Eddie!" He runs over to him and grabs his legs fiercely. Eddie ruffles his hair in response.

"Night squirt. Or should I say Sir Johnny the Just?"

"Yeah! Imma hero!" He beams and runs off to grasp your mother's hand, regaling her of his adventures.

"I'll see you later mom," you say, passing her Johnny's overnight bag by the door.

As the door shuts, the only sounds are coming from the gristly movie on the TV until Eddie switches it off. Silence.

"Mrs F, I only opened the beer after I put him to bed, I swear-"

"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. Thanks for staying longer, I appreciate it."

"Oh, it's fine. My trailers empty anyway, and you have cable." He smiles sheepishly at you.

"I told you, make yourself at home. Finish your beer."

Shoes are kicked off to join the jumble at the front door, and you rub some life back into your aching heels. Eddie's staring at your feet and he can't figure out why. He's never had a thing for feet, but yours? Yours he'd happily have running over his body, in his mouth, on his cock. He's almost ashamed at how just the slightest bit of your flesh on show has him practically drooling.

You're oblivious to Eddie's perverse thoughts however. Tonight was not what you wanted, and it makes you huff aloud at the thought.

"You alright Mrs F?" Eddie asks, concern in his voice as he sits back down on the couch, trying his hardest not to stare at your cleavage.

"Yeah I'm-" why are you lying? "no, actually I'm not. Not the night I was expecting." When you flash a weak smile at Eddie, it's not returned. He looks worried almost.

"Wanna talk about it?"

It's sweet of him to ask, and you're about to brush it off but he just looks so invested in your welfare that it takes you aback briefly.

"Sure. Hang on a minute." You pad barefoot to the kitchen and grab a beer, returning to the living room to sit on the couch beside him.

Eddie is trying to tell himself he's just being nice. It's not just an excuse to stay. It's difficult to believe his own thoughts however when your dress is riding up your thigh like that.

The very air between you both seems thick and laced with unanswered questions, tension real and palpable.

"So, Sir Johnny the Just?" You ask, to try and clear the closing space.

"Yeah," Eddie grins, face lighting up at the mention of your boy, "I gave him the name. Made a little one shot for him, you know, fought some goblins, saved a damsel in distress. He's got a knack for D&D."

Your eyes glisten at that.

"Thanks, he really looks up to you. It's nice, him having some guys around."

"Can I ask, what happened to… Mr F?" He knows he's crossing a line here, but he's so curious, and Sammy never talks about it.

"He left me. I was pregnant with Johnny, and he met some blonde twig, had an affair."

"Oh, I'm so fuckin' sorry."

You shrug. It's trauma, yes, but it's passed. A wound that has long since closed over the years, scarring but healing. You sip your beer and ask a line crossing question of your own.

"So, no girlfriend then? Since you're free on a Saturday night?"

You're not sure where that came from, but it's been asked now. A bubble of nerves pops when you ask it, showering you in drops of second guesses.

"N-no, well I mean, yeah I've had like, girlfriends in the past but no, I'm single. As a pringle."

What was that about? Smooth Munson.

You just laugh as he visibly cringes at his own words.

"Pringles aren't single, they fit together. They come in a tube." You add, mock helpfully.

You both chuckle then, diffusing some of the awkwardness between you. He knocks your knee with his. You reciprocate, and look up into those soulful puppy dog eyes of his.

Eddie's arm lays on the back of the couch behind you, and he's painfully aware of that fact. He wants to drop it to your shoulder, to run circles on your exposed skin and give you that smile, the smile he's given to a dozen girls. But you aren't a girl. You're a woman. The thought is making him more nervous than a virgin on prom night.

Coughing the thought away, he asks you about tonight.

"So, what happened on your date? I thought you'd be out later."

"So did I." You slug some more beer back to calm yourself, and continue, "he was a nice guy. Opened doors, paid for dinner. Then he kissed me."

Eddie attempted to ignore the burning jealousy in his gut.

"Oh yeah? Sounds awful.'

Laughing, you reach and stroke his side for a minute. Your hand lingers, feeling down to his hip. Eddie's heart is pounding in his throat. To his amazement, you leave it there, absentmindedly running fingers over his t-shirt.

'Yeah, torture," you quip, "it was the kiss."

Suddenly, you're moving your hand, much to Eddie's dismay, and turning to face him on the couch. He does the same, noticing that his arm is now so close to your head he can feel a slight tickle from your hair.

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Sure," Eddie tries to say coolly, to act like his entire insides aren't on fire because of the eye contact you're giving him.

"It's, er, been a while. A very long while." Your eyes dip down, unsure why the hell you're telling Eddie this, but something about him is making you want to be open when usually you're a closed book.

Eddie swallows thickly. He knows exactly what you're getting at. On instinct his thumb is rubbing the back of your head, over the soft curls. You don't seem to mind, better yet, your shoulders drop some tension, letting go just a little.

Still looking down, you say "I can usually tell what someone's going to be like, in bed, from a kiss. Never been wrong yet," you laugh a little, "and he felt, well, dull, and kinda selfish."

Grabbing your beer for something to distract you from the ache in your core, you drink some more, nearly finishing it.

As you place it back down on the coffee table, you glance at Eddie's lap. He's fumbling with his rings, spinning one with his thumb as he shifts in his seat. There's an unmissable bulge in the front of his jeans; they're so tight you can see the outline of it. Of him.

Glancing up at his face when you feel brave enough, it's beetroot red, but his eyes look dark, hungry almost.

"Well, th-that's a cool superpower to have," he laughs out nervously.

"I suppose it is" You smile.

Eddie's trying so hard to control himself. The devil on his shoulder is pulling at his hair and yelling in his ear to make a move.

This isn't right though, it's Sammy's mom for fucks sake.

That's when you put your hand on his knee, touching that bare patch of skin where his jeans are frayed. Your touch is delicate, almost hesitant, and it destroys any resolve Eddie had. His hand is shaking slightly as he puts his fingers over yours.

The touch is warming and electric, fanning the flames of the blazing fire in your stomach. As your eyes meet, Eddie's confidence grows. He can see that you want this, but someone needs to make the first move, and he would kick himself if he missed out because he didn't have the balls to make it.

"You know sweetheart," he begins, as you take a sharp breath at the nickname, he's never called you anything other than Mrs F before that, "you can't just say you have a superpower like that and not show me."

There's nerves in his voice, but also a cheeky smile playing on his lips. To his amazement you blush, mouth curving into a smile of your own.

"Listen, Eddie, you're a very sweet boy-"

"-man," He interjects, "I'm 21."

Chuckling, you reply, "OK, a very sweet young man, but I don't think that's a good idea."

It's true, you don't. It's a very bad idea, but it's one you can't get out of your head, your eyes drawn to the curve of his jaw, his stubble, those plush lips of his. Wetting your lips impulsively, you nibble at the bottom one which sends Eddie's head into a dizzying whirlwind.

"I just wanna know if I'm good in the sack, think it's only fair if you can tell me, it's just a kiss."

Luck being pushed as far as it can go and then a little further, he daringly places a hand on your cheek.

He is right, it's only a kiss.

You say it in your head as if you're trying to convince yourself of the lie. By the time you realise how weak of an argument it is, you're already leaning forward, eyes unmistakably drawn to his lips.

Eddie leans in, breath fanning your face.

"Don't you want to… satisfy your curiosity?"

It's bold, he knows, but you're the one who leans in further.

Eddie doesn't think twice, not when your eyes are hooded like that and your lips are forming a sultry pout. He presses his lips to yours softly at first, feeling the plush of them melt against his, his hand winding into your hair.

You don't stop him, or pull back. His lips on yours are disarming, taking away your bite. The kiss is gentle, and you dissolve into it, moving your lips against his with a passion you can't remember ever feeling.

Eddie's trying really hard not to just stick his tongue down your throat and feel you up, but he needs to prove something. He might not ever get a chance ever again, so he takes it slow. Opening his mouth, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging. Not only do you let him, you return his tongue with a lick of your own, running it over his lip in turn. Tongues stroke into each other's mouths sensually; you feel as if you have something to prove. Like he's the one who will be judging you and not the other way around.

He tastes intoxicating; you can't put your finger on why, it's beer, and cigarettes, and something else that's drawing you in. It's just pure Eddie. His smell too, leather, smoke and Old Spice; it's filling you up from the inside out, making your head spin.

Eddie's obsessed. Your touch, your scent, your taste. He could kiss you forever; he could kiss you until he dies, suffocated by your mouth, your passion. This feels like some sort of fever dream and he never wants to wake up.

Your fingers are touching cotton fabric before you even understand that you've got a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in further. He responds by dropping his hand to your neck, thumb rubbing intoxicating patterns on your pulse point.

When you're feeling on the brink of being entirely consumed by his kiss, he's the one to pull away. It's a little sneaky, he knows that, but he wants the upper hand and thinks he won't get it ever again. Eddie can't believe his luck when he sees your eyes still closed, lips chasing his touch, with a ball of his shirt in your hands.

As your eyes flutter open, you look up at him. A self satisfied smirk is smeared across his face and you can't help but think he's won this round of whatever the hell you're playing. Playing with fire it feels like.

A moment too late and you remember your hand bunched into his clothes. You unhand him and slap his knee, fingers unwilling to pull away.

"So, what's the verdict sweetheart?" Eddie asks. His fingers are still massaging at your neck, rubbing back and forth, sending tingles down your spine.

"What?" You ask, mind well and truly blank.

"Guessing that's good." He laughs, taking his hand away to take a sip of his beer. "Remember your superpower, Wonder Woman?"

"Oh, yeah. It was… good." You shrug, picking up the last of your beer and downing it.

"Good? Good?! Come on, you gotta give me more than that!" He huffs dramatically, slamming his beer bottle on the table.

Laughing aloud, you turn and face him again. He really is beautiful. His hair framing his face, that triumphant smile on his lips, laughter lines creasing in his day old stubble. You can almost believe he's older than he is, but knowing what you know about his family, he's been through a lot.

"OK, it was the best kiss I've had in a while. A very long time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

It's quiet for a moment; a loaded kind of quiet. It hangs heavily in the air like a thunderstorm.

"Well, how about you?" You ask.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean!" You laugh, nudging him with your foot.

"It was… good." He says, mimicking your words. Then he takes in your face, drinking in your beauty with his eyes, until he can't hold back anymore, "alright, it was mind blowing, you're really fuckin' hot."

"Yeah, for my age" You scoff at his response, disbelieving him even after that kiss. You hear it alot, ever since you passed 35. 'You look good for your age', the backhanded compliment that feels like a knife in the chest.

"That's bullshit!" Eddie responds loudly, shaking you out of your head and into the here and now, "you're fucking hot, period. Nothing to do with age sweetheart."

If his words are lies, the bulge in his pants sure isn't. You feel drunk, and not from the alcohol. Eddie's kiss had you feeling reckless. Naughty. Young.

"I overheard your little conversation earlier," you admit, scooching closer to him on the couch. Faces an inch apart, Eddie's torn between pouncing or running. So are you.

"Yeah, you weren't supposed to hear that. Kinda glad you did."

That makes you braver. All thought has gone, and the pounding need in between your legs has you losing all inhibitions as you lean towards his neck.

"Do you want me, Eddie?" You purr into his ear, nipping at the lobe with your teeth.

"Uh, like, yeah. Yes, o-of course" He replies shakily, hand restless against your thigh.

"You're trembling Eddie" it's your turn to smirk, lips dragging against his throat, "you've been with a woman before, right?" You know he has, but you can't help teasing him a little.

Yes, a dozen, but none like you.

"Y-yeah, I'm not a virgin, if th-that's what you're asking."

Get it the fuck together Munson.

"Then why are you nervous?"

"Girls don't make me nervous. You make me nervous" He laughs, with absolute honesty in his words.

With a flick of your eyes to his lips, you cradle his jaw. Eddie can't wait a second longer, he's about to burst. He takes a breath, grabs you by the hip, and presses a hard kiss to your mouth.

The first one was a test, an examination. This one is pure desire, neediness etched into the marrow of his bones. Yet you're the one to deepen the kiss, mouth opening up to him, your tongue running over his with fervour. Lust is rolling off the pair of you, filling the room with its sultry fog.

Impatience gets the best of him, he needs you closer, so he yanks you into his lap, hands grabbing hard to your hips. Gasping into his mouth at the sudden dominance, you let him lead. His kiss is burning you, hot and heavy. Your hips start grinding into his lap of their own accord, each movement inching your dress higher and higher.

Eddie rolls it up and over your ass so your red lace panties are on display, dress bunching at your waist. His hands are all over you, feeling at your thighs, your hips, your ass, kneading at the dough of your flesh desperately.

Each grope, each bruising squeeze of his fingertips has you panting in his mouth, your hands winding into his loose locks, tugging.

The kisses are becoming sloppier, allegedly immovable lipstick starting to smear on Eddie's face. You're biting at his bottom lip, grinding hard against his clothed dick; Eddie feels like he's died and gone to heaven.

He tugs at your dress urgently, coaxing you to wriggle it up your frame and fling it away.

The sight of you in your matching bra and panty set is enough to stop him in his tracks. It's gorgeous satin and lace, one of many you have. Even Eddie can see this is expensive. He runs his hands up and down your sides, drinking it in as if it were his last day on Earth.

You allow him the few moments he takes to worship you with his eyes. If anything you're enjoying it as much as he is, his hungry stare fuelling your ego.

"See something you like?" You tease, fingernails dragging across his neck.

"Fuck yeah" comes his breathy response, pulling down a cup of your bra roughly, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking.

Throwing your head back, you let out an unadulterated moan. You grab the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. He gets the message, wrestling it off of his toned frame and throwing it away as if he's exasperated with clothes. Relishing in this new uncharted territory, your hands run all over his skin, tracing tattoos and freckles, fingernails leaving evidence of your desire.

"Sorry, I just need to-" instead of telling you, he shows you, standing up with you grasped firmly at the hips. You think for a moment that he's going to take you upstairs, but he's pressing you down gently to the floor, lips and tongue tasting your neck, playfully licking over your collarbone.

Eddie needs to know what your pussy tastes like; he's been dreaming of this for as long as he can remember. The thought of you unravelling because of him has him twitching in his pants.

So, he makes his way down your torso, mapping your skin with his tongue. You're just so reactive; each time he laps and sucks at you a breathy gasp comes spilling from perfect painted lips.

It's driving you crazy, his mouth is setting each patch of skin aflame, burning with passion. You're surprised by his movements as his mouth trails lower and lower. It looks like he's taking every enjoyment in tasting you, and the way he wiggles to get between your spread legs makes you realise he's going to go down on you. That is what's so surprising; you've never had a man who did that without some serious coaxing, let alone one who seemed to really want to.

Now you're not self conscious by any means; you've grown to be very comfortable with your body, the feeling just comes with age. You can't help but be a little worried however, when Eddie reaches the stretch marks on your tummy. Little lightning strikes, lighter than the rest of your skin. You're not embarrassed, those little marks on your stomach and thighs are signs of your two beautiful boys. What's troubling you is the fact that Eddie can't have possibly seen any before, at least like this. What if they disgust him?

It seems you needn't have worried. Eddie's in awe, running his fingers over the soft skin of the scars. He plants a kiss over the top and watches your muscles tense up.

It's not that he likes them, or dislikes them for that matter; it's the fact that they are real. You're real, and in front of him in your underwear, and they ground him to the fact that this is actually happening.

Reaching the hem of your panties he's torn between taking them off or not; you're just so damn pretty in them. He settles for running his tongue along the seam making you moan. You, Sammy's mom, moaning underneath him. He'd pinch himself if he didn't think it would spoil the mood.

"You can take them off if you want baby."

"Can I just, move them to the side? You're so fuckin' pretty like this."

"Sure" you nod at him. He does so and nearly dies at the sight. Seems everything about you is thought of, down to your manicured nails, waxed legs, and bikini wax. The little patch of hair left is driving Eddie fucking crazy.

He wastes no more time and runs his tongue through your folds, lapping at you like a man possessed. You taste exquisite, a flavour Eddie will remember for the rest of his life. It has him groaning into you, the vibration tingling over your clit making you writhe under him.

He's trying to map what you like, what makes you whimper, what makes you buck into his mouth. You can tell he's trying, really trying, but you know what you need.

"Eddie, oh fuck, use, use the flat of your tongue," as he changes his tongue shape and rhythm, you wind your fingers into his hair and tug him right where you need him, "Oh God fuck, right there!"

Yes fucking ma'am.

Eddie's birthdays, Christmases, Easters, fuck it, all the holidays, have come at once. You are using him for your pleasure, riding his face. His dick is so swollen it's almost painful; he's rutting into the carpet like a teenager, the seam on his jeans not nearly providing enough friction.

The pleasure is coursing through your veins, throbbing inside your stomach and thighs as you take what you need, fingers pulling hard at his hair.

The moan that rips from your chest when Eddie pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt is pornographic, long and loud. He curls them upward, stroking incessantly at your g spot and spots appear in your vision. The last coherent thought you have is, fuck he really knows what he's doing.

"Eddie!"

You come with a strangled scream of his name, then it's all just white light and searing ecstasy as you ride out your orgasm. Your pulse and the feel of Eddie's hair taut in your fingers are the only things keeping you on planet Earth.

Eddie just about holds it together, fingers working you through your release. You screamed his name. He almost came in his pants right then and there. The sound of you screaming his name is now a new core memory. He's sure he will replay it in his head many times with his fist on his cock.

Your back finally touching the carpet again, you tear Eddie's head away from your pussy and coax him none too gently upward. He hovers over your mouth, a little worried about kissing you when his face is covered with your release, but that worry turns into shock when you push his head forcefully towards yours and slip your tongue in his mouth.

You can't help but moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. The moan sounds low in your throat, buzzing into Eddie's mouth so low he feels it in his dick. Seems you weren't lying when you said mommy is dirty too.

Suddenly Eddie's world turns sideways as you flip him onto his back, pushing his thighs apart with your knee. His scent, the feel of his skin, it's intoxicating. Before you realise what you're doing, you're sucking a love bite into the side of his neck, hard.

Mine.

Trailing lips and manicured nails down his torso, you pause at the fly of his jeans. You look up at him through your lashes.

"This OK Eddie?"

"Erm… oh God yes?"

You giggle girlishly, flicking the button of his jeans undone and unzipping the fly gently. Relishing in the moment, you guide him to lift his hips and pull his jeans and boxers down slowly, unwrapping him like a gift.

And what a fucking gift.

As you pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his hardened cock springs out, coming to rest on his abdomen. It's big, the biggest you think you've seen in real life. Blushing a pretty pink at the tip, a pearl of pre cum sits on the slit at the top.

Eddie takes your stillness as judgement, he can't help but fill in the silence.

"Sorry, it's er, it's not like, impressive or anything- oh fuck"

His apologies are interrupted when you take the tip in your mouth, sucking up the pre cum that glistens there. You roll the tip around your mouth, amazed at the fact he tastes so good.

Breaking away with a pop, you reply, looking at him as you fist his length slowly with one hand.

"Eddie, you're really, really big."

"Really?" He doesn't look convinced, leaning up on his elbows to look at you.

"Really. You're huge Eddie."

"Yeah?" An edge of disbelief coats his voice, but he's smiling.

"Biggest I've seen."

Eddie's smile is damn near splitting his face in half.

"So, could I get that in writing or- Jesus fuckin' Christ!"

You take him in your mouth again, fitting as much as you can, fisting the rest in your hand. The groans and whimpers coming from Eddie's mouth are downright obscene. The wetter you get him, the louder he gets, so you dribble purposely all over your fist, letting it drip down to his balls.

Eddie's eyes keep trying to roll back but he won't let them, he refuses. He needs to see this, to see you. The slick sounds your hand and mouth are creating are making him fizz from the inside out, each movement is making him want to blow his load in that perfect practised mouth.

Sammy's mom is sucking my fucking dick dry.

He's trying to get his head around this impossible situation but it's so outlandish he wants to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. He settles on moaning, hand resting on the back of your head, stroking encouraging circles.

"Fuck, you're- you're too good at this, holy shit!"

Relinquishing his length with a sodden wet noise, you fist his length, running your thumb over his tip and lapping at his balls. Taking one in your mouth and playfully sucking, he nearly busts right then and there.

"OK sweetheart, I-I can't hold back if you, fuck, if you d-do that-"

You finally unhand him with a cheeky smile and straddle him, your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his throbbing length.

"You OK there champ?" You ask, a mischievous grin plastered all over your face as you drag your perfect nails down his chest.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I-" Eddie grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "Please give me a minute, please."

Eddie's eyes are big, wide and wet. Almost like a lost puppy. You're torn between wanting to hold him close, look after him, and fucking him hard until he cries.

Suddenly he looks concerned, eyes growing impossibly wider.

"I don't have, a-a condom or anything-"

You chuckle lowly, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing softly at his knuckles.

"Eddie, baby, I had my tubes tied years ago. It's OK. If it's OK with you?"

Holy shit. Sammy's mom wants to ride me raw. Jesus Christ.

His head is spinning; he realises he's nodding so hard he may have whiplash. You smirk at his response, the rigorous nodding and wide eyed look is just doing something to your insides; twisting them up, making you hungry.

Maybe that's why you do what you do. You wink at him, and swing your leg over, pushing your underwear to the side once again. Though this time, you're straddling him backwards, round ass on display as you tease the head of his cock with your soaking wet lips.

As you sink down onto him, you hear the guttural moan that strikes out from his soul almost, travelling swiftly to your core. He's big, you weren't lying. You feel each vein, each ridge, as you seat yourself fully onto his cock.

This boy has no idea what he's packing.

Jesus Christ, the spots this impressive length can reach are unreal. You bounce on him slowly, revelling in the stretch. He's throbbing underneath you, inside you. The sensation makes you moan wantonly, feeling sexier than you've felt in years.

Eddie's mesmerised by your ass, watching it bounce on his dick, drooling at the shake of it when it plunges back down. His eyes are drawn to your tight hole, half hidden by the pricey underwear that still adorns you. Just a tiny slip of lace hugged in your ass cheeks.

He's already pushed his luck; he's well aware of that fact. The arousal pumping through him has him throwing caution to the wind however, so he sucks his thumb, getting it nice and wet, and pushes it against your asshole.

It surprises you, sure, but you're moaning louder at his bold move.

Eddie's reeling, dizzy at your reaction. He was expecting at least for you to just slap his hand away, but if anything you speed up and make even more noise. Fuck, if you could get more perfect, you just did. He pushes his digit in, feeling you clench around it, riding him for all he's worth.

"Oh fuck, Eddie!"

It's too much for you to take, being filled in both holes, riding him hard and fast until your vision is blurring and spots are in your eyes. Your release startles you, a fuzzy feeling filling you up from the inside out and exploding from your cunt in a gush.

Reality seeps in as you come down from your high; pain in your knees searing up your leg.

"Sweetheart, I need to get on top, please."

It's a relief you're not prepared to admit to as you climb off, legs twitching and knackered.

Near collapsing on the floor, Eddie's on you, falling in his excitement. He's forgotten his jeans are still woven around his ankles. He kicks them off and slides between your spread legs.

"Can I take your panties off now sweetheart?"

What he's not saying, is he really doesn't want to miss what might be the only time he gets to see you naked. You oblige, lifting up your hips so he can wrestle the sodden garment off you.

As if you can hear his prayers, you unhook your bra too, flinging it toward the couch. Eddie's nearly having a heart attack; it's hammering hard in his chest, the only thing stopping it from bursting out is his ribcage. The sight of you, nude, beneath him? It's unravelling him in a way he didn't know was possible.

So he loses it for a moment, burying his head in the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Your nipples stand to attention at his ministrations, yet your core hums at the lack of attention.

"Eddie, please, I need you inside me."

Fuck this is unreal. She's so beautiful and she's begging for me. Feels like a dream.

But it's not a dream. He's pressing his quivering length against you again and your pussy is swallowing him up as if it's hungry for him.

You let him in, his hard member spearing you, humping into you hard and rough. You groan against him, fingernails finding leverage in his broad shoulders.

His arms hook under your sweaty knees, pulling them hard against your torso, angling himself to fuck into you mercilessly.

"Fuck, you feel- so fuckin' good" He stammers out, slamming his hips into you.

You're beyond words, screaming his name like it's the only word you know.

"You gonna come again? Please, fuck, please come, I need it, I need it baby please" His babbling words fire out at you, driving you ceaselessly to another orgasm.

Fingers wind between your heaving forms, running urgent circles over your clit. They slip and slide against your sodden nub, desperately seeking to get you to that precipice. You moan, and moan, and finally clench and scream his name, voice hard, burning in your throat.

Eddie can't take it, not the way your cunt is grabbing onto him so tightly, constricting his dick as if it's afraid he'll leave. He stutters his hips and grunts his own release deep into you.

For a minute he doesn't stop, He refuses to stop. He doesn't want it to be over. So, he fucks his cum into you until it's impossible to continue and finally comes up for air.

You envelop his lips into a suffocating kiss, swollen lips and tongue and spit. Messy and passionate, he returns it, glad that you still want to kiss him at the end of all things.

Though, you don't want it to be over. His touch, his feel, his taste, you could soak it up, roll around in it forever, wrap yourself in his arms and stay. A mad thought. A maddening thought.

Eddie slips from inside you making you frown at the loss. His smile is soaked in mischief however, as he starts to kiss down your front again, burying his head in the deep valley of your breasts, tongue lathering over the supple flesh and moving downwards.

He's never, ever, felt the need to taste himself on another. As a matter of fact, if you had told him yesterday he would feel the desperate urge to press his tongue into a pussy that is dripping with his own cum he would have laughed in your face. But, this is your pussy. Your tight wet cunt, and he needs to taste it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. For a second he stares up at you with big soulful eyes.

"I wanna taste what we made."

His words are shooting into the pulse spilling from your core.

"Really?" Your words drip in perplexity, amazed that any man would want that, but the thought lingers, making you realise that you want that.

No further time wasted, he dives into your dripping core, tongue dragging through your aching lips. For a moment it's too much, until it drops into pleasure; pleasure that you sink into, melting under his touch.

Eddie laps furiously at your clit, both of your releases dripping from his chin. He sinks thick fingers inside, squelching into your soft heat.

Wordlessly, he takes his fingers out and reaches them up to your face. His eyes are trained on you, flat of his tongue rubbing against your swollen nub.

Hesitantly, you take in the sight of his sticky fingers, before you take them into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks. The taste is indescribable; it's salty, sweet, tangy, each separate flavour hitting your tongue differently, fuelling your desires.

You're making Eddie's dreams come true with that gesture. Your trust in him, your filthiness, the way your tongue works against his fingers, it's all shooting to his heart, and his cock. He's impossibly hard again, groaning into your cunt.

Another release is speeding toward you. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it, free falling into ecstasy. You grip around his wrist, fingers digging bruises into the tendons as your orgasm rushes out of you in a string of curse words.

He moves back up your body and you envelop his slicked lips in a firm kiss. To your surprise, you can feel his hard member digging into your thigh. It's been a long time since you've been with anyone who couldn't go more than one round before rolling over and falling asleep. The joys of youth.

"You OK Eddie?" You ask between breath-taking kisses.

"OK? I'm fucking amazing sweetheart. Feel like I just won the lottery or something" He huffs a laugh, nudging the tip of his nose with yours.

"You, erm-" you begin, feeling almost embarrassed, "-you wanna go again?"

"Oh hell yeah."

His tip is already begging at your entrance but you place a firm hand to his chest, stilling his movements.

"Eddie, upstairs? My back is killing me." You admit it, the hard floor giving you aches and pains.

"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Come on" practically leaping up, he holds out his hand to you and you grasp it in yours. You giggle at his eagerness, the sight of him stark naked leaping up the stairs three at a time stoking your amusement.

This might be inappropriate, it might be a bit wrong, but damn, this is fun. Having someone desire you so much, who wants to fuck you over and over? Morals can kick in tomorrow. Tonight, you have a gorgeous young man aching to give you more.

********************

"Hey, you still here?"

You look up, distracted from your musings of last night. God, that boy had some stamina.

"Huh?"

"Wow, that date must have been good! You going to spill? Come on, tell me about it!"

Blushing, you sip the glass of wine in front of you. Karen Wheeler had popped round unannounced with a bottle and you were sitting around your kitchen table whilst she grilled you about why you were smiling so much. She would lose her shit if she knew who you were smiling about.

"I mean, I can't really talk about it." You mumble around your glass.

"Oh God, why? Oh, he's married, I bet he's married! You naughty thing!" Her words are admonishing, but her cheeks are glowing. She's loving every minute of this.

Why not? At least that would explain it away.

"Yeah, he's married."

"Oh my you're terrible!" She cackles, laughing. "How was he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Karen."

"Oh, come on you're practically glowing! I know that look" She says, nodding sagely.

"OK, look" You say, taking a gulp of wine for composure and a deep breath before it rushes out of your mouth in a torrid whisper.

"It was fucking incredible, like toe curling incredible, you know? And he just kept going, I mean, honestly? The best I've ever had."

Karen coughs and nods pointedly behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him.

Eddie. Fuck.

He's standing there nonchalantly, leaning on the doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Sorry for the interruption, just grabbing a couple beers."

He bounces into the kitchen and fetches two beers from the fridge.

"Me and Sammy are just working on the campaign. I'll er, leave you ladies to it."

He practically skips out the room, leaving you red faced.

"That Eddie?" You nod, face red as a beetroot.

"He's grown up, hasn't he?"

You steer away from this line of questioning, mortified that he heard what you said.

"Only on the outside. You want a top up?" She agrees with a grin as you fill her glass up and she regales you with all the poolside gossip. When the bottle is done, she leaves with a wink, saying she'll keep your secret. If she only knew what that was.

Eddie's on cloud nine right now, bouncing up the stairs three at a time.

The best she's ever had. The best she's ever had.

It's in his mind, playing in a loop. His mantra, a quote that will live deep in his chest from now until forever after.

The best she's ever had.

He flings the door open and flounces into Sammy's room, banging a beer down on the bedside table.

"A beverage for you, good fellow!"

"Aha! Fine work m'lord!" Sammy twists the cap off, tossing it in the bin. Eddie does the same, twisting to face the waste paper basket, and takes a long swig.

"Eddie you dirty fuck."

He freezes, ice pouring down his spine. Spinning on his heel, he turns to face Sammy.

"What are you on about?" He asks, a fake smile masking the fear that had bottomed out in his stomach.

"I see the panties you've got in your back pocket, red ones. They're poking out! Dude, did you get lucky last night?" Sammy smirks, swigging his own beer.

He couldn't help himself. He swiped them when he was leaving. They were still wet, soaked with a mixture of his spit and your release. He'd sniffed them and got himself off twice this morning.

Chill out. Sammy's grinning. He's got no clue who they belong to.

Eddie relaxes and grins smugly back, laying on the floor, his back against the bed.

"Oh, you have no idea."

********************

Humming to yourself, you sort through the dirty clothes in the laundry room, separating darks and lights.

Your thoughts drift yet again to that messy haired rocker. His large hands, his tight torso, his dick. Fuck, his dick.

Shaking your head, you do what you can to rid your brain of your salacious thoughts, loading the washer a little more forcefully than you necessarily needed to.

You hear the unmistakable click of the door behind you. Not bothering to turn, you huff as you shut the washer lid with a bang.

"I swear to God Sammy if you need a shirt for tonight I've already-"

"Hey sweetheart."

Flipping to face the door, there he is. Arms folded across his slender chest, smug smirk spread stickly across his features, he stares at you.

"Eddie, you need to leave."

Your tone is stern, but your bottom lip disappears into your mouth, being nibbled at by your teeth.

"You sure? Thought you might wanna see me. You know, since I'm the best you ever had."

"Eddie shut the fuck up!" You hiss between your teeth, eyes flashing to the door.

"Sweetheart, Sammy's fallen asleep. He had a long night. You know what that's like."

"Eddie, that was a one time thing. God, it's not like this can go anywhere, so why are you here?"

Tapping your foot impatiently, he closes the gap between you, cornering you between the wall and the washing machine.

You want to be angry; to push him away and leave, but the pounding of your pulse between your legs betrays you.

As if he knows, he slots his leg between yours, denim clad thigh hovering near your throbbing heat, pushing your sundress up in the process.

"I know. Fuck, I'm well aware. I just wanna- help you out. Like, an arrangement" He smiles, knuckles reaching up to stroke your cheek.

"Eddie-"

Before you manage to form words, he's on his knees in front of you, large palms running over your bare thighs.

"Please."

That's all he says, wet doe eyes wide, gleaming up at you as if you were some sort of goddess and he was kneeling at your altar.

Eddie's begging to the old Gods and the new; fuck it, to anyone who might be listening. He wants you, with everything he has. Each fibre is burning for you. He thought it might go away after last night, but it was simply a taste. A drop of water doesn't quench an undying thirst.

This little sundress is doing nothing to sate his hunger for you. The flimsy material clings in all the right places, forcing his eyes to trail over your curves like a man starved.

Without a thought in your head, you wind your fingers into Eddie's hair, relishing the feel of his hot breath on your naked thighs. Guiding his head forward, you shudder as his lips trace across your flesh.

Eddie lifts your dress up, reaching desperately to pull your panties off and away before you change your mind. Slick sticking to them, he pulls them down, watching as they gradually peel from your core.

He sits on his heels, eyes flitting from your eyes to your cunt.

"Sweetheart, please. I just wanna- I wanna help you with your needs. Fuck, with my needs."

Nodding emphatically, you tug at his hair, drawing him in.

Eddie counts his blessings and dives straight at your pussy, lapping between the folds just like you taught him.

"Oh God" you moan aloud, then bite at your hand to stop your noises. Flicking one leg over his shoulder, you force his head as close as you can, nearly riding his face.

If anything, Eddie is a quick learner, at least when it comes to you.

His tongue is electric, hitting all of the right spots. He feels your cunt on his tongue, leaving hot and heavy licks. Running his hand up your thigh again, he presses his thumb against your clenching hole, wiggling into your slick drenched pussy.

"Eddie, yes!" You whisper, fingers pulling at his curls incessantly. Eyes rolling back, you rut your hips into him, on the brink of falling apart.

White hot light sears your eyelids as you come with a stifled cry, cunt undulating around his thick digit.

"Fuckfuckfuck!"

Yanking his head away from you by the roots of his hair, you cannot fail to hear the unmistakable moan that spills from his lips.

Eddie's staring up at you dumbfounded, as if you created the universe just for him.

Panting, you stare back down at him, his lips parted and shining with your orgasm.

"Eddie, holy hell."

He stands, wiping the slick from his face with the back of his hand, though it does nothing to remove the grin.

Against every better judgement, you grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, lips nearly touching.

"You- you can't tell anyone about this, OK? Not a soul, understood?"

If it were possible, his grin grows even wider, palm resting at your waist.

"I can be discreet." He whispers as he presses his lips to yours. Winding fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, tongue moving expertly between his parted lips to taste him, and you.

Eddie pulls away reluctantly.

"I better go."

As he moves to the door, hand hovering over the handle, you call out to him.

"Eddie, wait."

Turning his head, he looks at you.

"Sammy's seeing Tiff again tonight, and er, Johnny's still at his grandma's."

"Good to know." He winks and leaves. What you don't know is that he does a mini victory dance once the door is shut, fists pumping in the air with sheer joy.

He doesn't know how long this is going to last, but he'll take every single second he can get with you whilst you let him.

Taglist (just some likely candidates ;) )

@cursedyuta @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla @emsgoodthinkin @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eiightysixbaby @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @usedtobecooler @roanniom

1K notes · View notes

sylvidoptera · 4 months

Text

The tiny fae sat atop the neck of the ancient snapper, holding on to his bag of parchment and writing instruments. He let his mind drift for the walk, knowing that the habit of countless years would take the larger dragon's feet exactly where they needed to go. Muscle memory was a wonderful thing.

The mental memory, however, was slippery and you always took it for granted until it was gone.

As they reached the tablet in the middle of the clearing, Scribbles could feel his great-great-grandmother perk up. The sight of the polished rocks she'd called her desk for ages would always draw her out of the slightly disconnected place she spent the majority of her time these days. His own spirits brightened instantly and he grinned with anticipation.

While Tomo puttered around her desk setting up everything just so, Scribbles fluttered to the two sides of the path that came through the trees. Most of the locals knew that the famous researcher was now struggling with dementia and would treat her accordingly; but sometimes strangers would come through and laugh at "the daft old lady" who handed out coins for simple answers over and over.

As the fae put the second sign up, its block letters reading "PLEASE BE KIND", he heard himself called back. "Scribbles! Everything is ready! You need to be in place if you're to get any work done with me today!" Tomo's voice was affectionate and filled with the same eagerness that had driven her to learn everything she could when she was younger.

"Yes, Grandmother! I was just putting up the 'open' signs for our sources."

"Good boy! Hopefully we'll get someone who knows what they're talking about today. I swear, some people just are woefully ignorant. But that's alright! We can teach. Everyone likes to learn, right?"

Smiling a little bit sadly, Scribbles nodded. "Of course." He set up his parchment, inkwell, and quills and prepared for what the day might bring. "We can only hope that everyone today will learn something valuable."

As the day wore on, Tomo never lost her enthusiasm. Whether the answers were wrong or right, she learned something (again) or the dragon who gave the wrong answer was able to have a new fact to take home. Every silly little drawing, recipe, or imaginary prose Scribbles wrote down was met with a gently amused patience and joy that her grandson was so talented and creative.

Those who were in the know would quietly drop their coins back into the basket hidden in the bushes next to the tablet. Tomo was endlessly generous, because she didn't remember that she no longer was a highly-paid scholar. Everyone in the area was so proud and so fond, they would simply make sure that she would never run out of coins… for Tomo insisted on paying for correct answers. Her pride and generosity would allow nothing else.

At the end of the day, Scribbles packed up his equipment and looked at the slowly fading light in his beloved grandmother's eyes. "The sun is going down, Tomo. Time to head home. After all, brains need rest to be able to process all this information."

"Right you are! You're such a good apprentice. If you're lucky, my desk may be yours someday. But not for a long time. There's still so much left to learn." Tomo looked over the clearing one last time before Scribbles climbed up on her back. With a deep sigh that was full of contentment - and a hint of unconscious sadness - the ancient dragon let her mind slip into the twilight she'd been fighting as her body carried her home.

Scribbles looked down at the head that held the most beautiful mind he'd ever known. No matter how many times the fog took her away, he would work hard to bring her out into the light. If that meant spending every day like today, so be it.

Wiping away a tear and sitting up straighter, Scribbles smiled as Tomo started gently rambling a story from her childhood. It was one of his favorites. The little dragon pushed away any shadows from his thoughts and enjoyed the rhythm of the familiar words.

Tomorrow was another day… and there were always questions to ask and answers to give. For what was life without learning and love?

#my muse bit me #flight rising #dragon fic #tomo and scribbles #dementia #please be kind

2 notes · View notes

itwasalladreamsblog · 2 years

Text

Friends? (chapter 4)

Jake Seresin (Hangman) x Maverick + Penny daughter

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Another note: Hangman is a bit more tolerated by everyone in this story. Not as much beef with Rooster, mainly just cocky and confident.They're all almost even…. friends?

Warnings: language

You sludge your way to work tonight, deflated and annoyed after a day of distraction and limited work progress. Having found yourself rather bothered today by the blonde man’s comment about your apparent loneliness a few nights ago, your work ethic had been completely off. What had annoyed you most however, was the fact that he was very much right. You had friends, sure, but they didn’t live in Miramar. Through college, you had made plenty of friends, but once you had all graduated, you dispersed across the states. You had made some friends through your work, but since you all worked from home, you only saw them in person a few times a year at most. You knew could’ve made plenty of friends in Miramar with the pilot population, but your rule for self preservation had won out, and so you had pretty much closed yourself off to a lot of people in your life, investing all of your time in to your work. Although you already had the self awareness of this, it was hard to hear it from the mouth of someone else, let alone someone who didn’t really know you. You wondered if the comment was empty, or whether the blonde man had caught a glimpse of you with your guard down.

Your mood is immediately lifted when you spot Phoenix by the bar as you enter. You immediately head towards her and fetch her her drink as you begin to talk to her about how her training for the day was. Phoenix was a great friend and you were even more grateful for it now, but currently you find that she has been talking for moments now, and you haven’t heard a word. You stopped listening after she tells you about the risky move your dad and Bradley conducted in their training today, both of them stubborn, spiralling to the ground headfirst, pulling out at the last second, dire consequence narrowly escaped. You’re angry at your dad for engaging in this kind of behaviour. You’re also angry that he and Bradley are still in this standoff at all, especially when you can now see that it was bringing out the worst in them, and their most dangerous sides. You’re thankful that the both of them are fine, but you know they are lucky and that its all too close. Your fears of loss of those important to you, all warranted and confirmed by this exact scenario. Your fear is well within grasp, and its pull towards you is strong. You feel your eyes brewing with tears, the emotion of it all, the fear and anger, erupting within you. Phoenix is no longer talking and you sense that she has registered your response to her story. She reaches out for you and softly mutters your name ‘Collins…’. Of course she knew about your reservations towards those close to you involved in this lifestyle, and your rule towards any more possibilities, enacted for your own welfare, but she’d never seen you react to an instance as close to home as this.

You mutter a small ‘Sorry’ to Phoenix and excuse yourself. Fleeting from the bar, you say nothing to your mum as you bail, evident upon your features that you need a time out. You fight your way through the growing crowd, almost taking someone out as you exit through the front door. ‘Woah, easy there’. You look up to see the blonde man with his hands raised in defence. He clocks that it’s you, as you do him. His face softens slightly at the sight of you, whereas you remain scowling. ‘All good?’ He adds. ‘Dandy’ you reply in a flat tone. It’s different to your previous encounters, it lacks your usual enthusiasm and wit, and he notices. You walk away before he can add anything else, but as you position yourself to look out towards the water, you feel his presence shadow you.

‘Look I’m sorry about the other night, I was just having fun, but I know it came off the wrong way’. You weren’t expecting an apology from him, but you welcome it as a momentary distraction from the real reason you’d bailed from the bar. ‘You don’t seem like the apologising type, but don’t worry about it. It was warranted’. Although you had been reflecting a lot about the man’s assumptions about you over the past few days, you’d also been thinking about how maybe you’d been too quick to judge him in the first place. The apology confirmed that. You know you also now have one of your own to make. ‘I’m sorry too, I started it and it was a dick move’. He chuckles at this. He extends his hand out to you ‘Hangman’. You take it with your own ‘I don’t want to know the meaning behind that and ruin this semi-nice moment. Collins’ you reply as you shake it, a hint of a smile on your face, the tears that had collected in your eyes now dissapated. He chuckles again.

‘So what’s got you in your head tonight, Collins?’ Hangman proceeds to ask. His tone is also notably different from your past conversations, there’s a sense of genuineness behind it. His question brings you back to your reality. ‘You were right you know, about being lonely’. You’re surprised at your own openness, but somehow, there’s been a tiny shift between you and Hangman with this interaction and you also know you have nothing to lose by being honest at this point. ‘What I said about that has got you feeling this way?’ he asks, a little bit of panic detectable in his voice. ‘Yes. No. Sort of’. ‘Oh great, now I feel like the worlds biggest asshole’. You laugh at this half-heartedly. ‘No it’s okay. Phoenix just told me about that little stunt Bradley and my dad pulled today. I’m not a big fan of their risk taking’. He ponders this for a moment ‘I was wrong. You don’t hate men do you? And you don’t hate Navel men. You’re scared of losing people to this lifestyle’ he says while looking at you intently. You are amazed at how easily he’s put it together. ‘I close myself off because i’m scared of losing people to this lifestyle’ you affirm while nodding, before adding ‘And pretty much the entire Miramar population is made up of people possible to lose, so it’s just easier to be lonely’ a little bit surprised by your own vulnerability now, having thrown all caution to the wind at this stage.

‘You can’t be lonely forever, Collins. The fear will still be there whether you want to let it be or not. If you close yourself off to everyone out of fear of losing them, you’re only hurting yourself in the process. You’ve got to trust in your dad, and Rooster and Phoenix, even when it’s hard. You’ve got to let people in, and find it within you to trust them too. You can worry that you might drown every time you swim, but you can’t let it stop you from entering the water’.

You feel his words slowly melting away at the exterior you had built up. You think about the fact he is very much right. This mechanism of self-defence you had enclosed yourself in, it might have actually just been keeping the fear in, while keeping other people out. How many friends and people and opportunities had you allowed yourself to miss out on by closing yourself off and only allowing yourself to worry about a few select pilots and people in your life. What was the benefit? The fear would in fact, be there either way, just as Hangman had said.

There’s a natural lull in the conversation. ‘We could give it a shot you know?’ You turn to look at him, confused. ‘To try and work through this fear. It might not be as scary if you give it a chance’ he continues. You’re still confused by his statement. He extends his hand to you ‘Friends?’. You look at him, really look at him this time. You think about how far your interactions had come within a matter of days, questioning whether he had ever been the problem to begin with, or whether your hard surface was. You accept his hand. ‘Friends’ you reply, nodding and smiling. ‘Can I ask you a question, friend to friend?’ You follow, placing extra emphasis on the ‘friend’. ‘Would it matter if I said no?’ He laughs. You shoot him a small smile. ‘How did you know I was lonely anyway?’. ‘I didn’t, my comment about it was just a meaningless cheap shot. Your reaction to it was the giveaway’. You laugh but mentally scold yourself, your poker face proving not as effective as you had initially thought.

#hangman seresin x reader #hangman top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman #top gun #top gun maverick

36 notes · View notes

danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 5 months

Note

Speaking of Death Battle thoughts on the 2000000000000000000000th repeat of Goku vs Superman? Good? Bad? Or exists?

//Ok, I have a lot to say about it:

//You know how I said that Scooby Vs Courage was my favourite episode of this season?

//It is genuinely at risk of losing it's title, and it's because of Goku Vs Superman 3. Let me break it down:

//Now, I did kind of mention this when I recapped Rick Vs Doctor, but even from the beginning, I was a big defender of the match. When Ben explained why they were doing this again, he made some really great points and convinced me that they had something good in the works.

//And for the people who say that the rerun was pointless, especially since Goku lost again, I need to point out that the SECOND fight was pointless. It happened one series after the first one and seemed to just be made of scrapped notes from the first episode, which, to its credit, I still think holds up today. The controversy surrounding the second episode was a bit intense, but sort of deserved, since the really only good thing about the second fight was Brandon Yates' "Alive".

//As for what makes the most recent episode so great, the analyses for both Goku and Superman are really well done and very respectful to both characters, much unlike the second fight where Goku just got fucked over and Superman got decharacterized like a motherfucker. They do a good job at bringing out both characters best sides and this is what is translated into the fight.

//Unlike the previous two times the two fought on Death Battle, Superman actually plays along with Goku's battle hungry enthusiasm, and the two are pretty chummy throughout the fight despite how they're trying to kill each other. I love it when there's no real animosity between fighters in DB and that they're just trying to test out each other's strength. I also think this shift in motives for Superman is great, because it brings out what I believe is his best side, that being his humility. Whereas in the previous two episodes he was kind of no-nonsense, overly stern and serious and just gave Goku shit for...being Goku, Superman is really nice to Goku in this episode and respects him right until the end, even agreeing to go round 2 with him. So even though the fight ends with Goku losing again, I saw this coming, and I'm at least glad it wasn't a fuck-you death like the last two times.

//Also, what helps is that the voice acting is amazing. Michael Kovach and Xander Mobus are two guys who I respect IMMENSELY, and this episode highlights why. They break off each other well, and Michael's final Kamehameha when Goku goes Ultra Instinct is incredible.

//The animation is the best of the season, bar-none, or at least the best 3D animation. If I talked about everything I liked about it, we'd be here forever, but you can tell the animators pulled out all the stops. The one scene I will draw attention to is when Superman starts to get serious and punches so hard, reality breaks and we see alternate versions of Goku and Superman fighting, like Goku Black fighting Ultraman. I think that was really cool and really clever and paid good attention to the legacy of both the characters.

//Lastly, the post-analysis was very well done. It seems to me that Death Battle really wanted to explain why Superman wins this time instead of just saying, "ugh, he's fucking strong and goku sucks" so they broke it down into categories, and Goku even outmatched Superman in skill. I liked that the fight wasn't a complete and total one-sided beatdown since Goku had a few edges, and that's enough for me.

//If I had to say there were any disappointments with the episode, I have two, and they are extremely minor. For one, I was really hoping that the battle track would be a remaster of Alive from the second fight, but upon reflection, Alive was more of a nitty and gritty and edgy track that suited the more savage mood of the second episode, whereas in this one it's more upbeat and powerful to show just how fun the two were having. So while my expectations were subverted, they were succeeded.

//The other thing I didn't like was how the episode ended. Wiz starts going on a panic and questioning what they're doing before Boomstick snaps him out of it. And the reason this makes me sad is because it feels like Death Battle is trying to justify it's reason for existing to it's audience, which...it shouldn't HAVE to do that. Death Battle exists to paint and show a picture of what would happen if the characters you love were to fight to the death using every ability they have in their arsenal, and use math, science and research to decide who. The people who right the show, in spite of what many people will tell you, are not biased against anybody, and even though they rely on facts to reach their verdicts, it's all about having fun and seeing these crossover fights with two powerful combatants duking it out. That's all there is to it and that's all there needs to be, and it makes me sad and angry to think about how these guys are getting chronic hate for their verdicts from toxic people, since it DOESN'T MATTER who wins! Oh, your fav lost? How sad! MOVE ON! You've got a life to live and if it pisses you off, watch a different series. It just made me sad, that's all.

//Anyway, in summary, top tier episode. 10/10.

//And for those who are curious, here's my current ranking of the Season 10 episodes from best to worst, not including Galactus Vs Unicron (which by the way, I have no say in, I'm not particularly invested in either character, so I don't really care who wins. Subtly rooting for Galactus though.) This season has been absolute fire from start to finish and I love every single episode so far though:

Scooby Vs Courage

Goku Vs Superman

Frieza Vs Megatron

Rick Vs the Doctor

Cole Vs Alex

Bill Vs Discord

Guts Vs Dimitri

Ant-Man Vs Atom

Gojo Vs Makima

Skyrim Vs Dark Souls

Phoenix Vs Raven

Martian Manhunter Vs Silver Surfer

Vader Vs Obito

Stitch Vs Rocket

Killua Vs Misaka.

#mod #death battle

3 notes · View notes

thesilmarilchick · 1 year

Text

The War of the Dead, Chapter 5: The Deal

Valinor, Manwë’s secret chambers: eight years after the escape

Tulkas closed his eyes to the general chatter of the room. It was amazing that Varda and Manwë had even managed to fit the rest, well, almost the rest, of the Valar into this small chamber. Let alone the half dozen or so lesser Maiar who had been crammed into the farthest seats behind them. This place was not designed to hold so many people, it was barely designed to hold two of them.

‘My friends, my dearest wife, and all that do heed our call…’

‘Manwë, for once could you please just get to the point, we’ve all been run off our feet, and another elongated lecture on the virtues of patience, or the will of Eru, is not what we need.’ Manwë turned to blink owlishly at the clipped and tired tones of his wife.

‘My apologies oh dearest one, I did not realise I was being so tiring. Perhaps I shall attempt to curb my enthusiasm for lecturing in the future. But that was not why I called you all here today.’

‘Then what was it?’ Aulë grumbled behind the long bristles of his beard.

‘My brothers and sisters, and all that do attend this hearing, I have found, nay discovered a solution to our problem.’

‘Which problem would that be oh, great lord of us all?’ Aulë’s cheek towards the one Valar who could put the Smith in his place had grown exponentially since…since Fëanor’s escape. Tulkas scowled at the larger Valar, this was not helping. All it would take was for one wrong word, one misplaced step and Varda would snap, and no doubt take them all down with her.

Eru, he wished Námo was here right now, but he had retreated into his own domain after his failure and had not stepped a foot out since.

‘My wife has brought up a very keen element of the argument my friends, we are all run off our feet. The simple fact is, hard as we might try, we cannot locate Fëanor, he is simply too slippery in his fëa form for most of our kind to see clearly.’

The Maker of the Dwarves, snarled under his breathe. ‘Well then why doesn’t Námo go looking for him, he is the keeper of the dead after all.’

‘Námo is not a part of this anymore. He has already showed his capability regarding this issue, and we will not waste time by having him prove his weakness… again.’ Varda’s voice was cold and clipped, and Tulkas prayed to Eru that the stupid Smith would not push it any further. Varda had always been stern when it came to the other Valar, but ever since this…this incident with Námo, she’d been as strict as a mother to a disobedient babe. It was as if she viewed them all as children, ready to send the world of mortal men into chaos on a whim of a temper tantrum.

‘No indeed,’ spoke the King of all the Valar over his wife. ‘Námo’s self-isolation in its self is a marked sign that we cannot rely on his guidance or keenness of sight in this matter. Yet the realm of the Dead is not wholly without capability to lend us aid.’ Many of the younger Valar and Maiar blinked stupidly at that turn of phrase, and all Tulkas could do was close his eyes and try to pretend he was anywhere else.

‘Bring them in!’

Tulkas looked up, as a cold shiver passed over him, no, not over him, by him. Something cold, and entirely alien to the living had walked by. No, not just one thing, six of them. Six, houseless, bodiless spirits had just glided past him and joined Manwë at the front of the room. They formed a neat little line under the bright light of Manwë. Now that Tulkas could see them clearly, he could recognize them. Oh, Eru no, Manwë no, not this, any solution but this. But Manwë would not be stopped.

‘We must admit our weakness on this matter, my kinsmen. We are as clueless as the day he was conceived when it comes to the might of Fëanor. Only those who truly knew him in life, who truly understand the danger he could cause to the lands beyond the sea, have any hope of finding him before that danger comes to pass.’ He gestured to the six fëa standing sombrely now by his side.

‘Seven sons he had in life, six there were in the halls of Mandos and now six stand before you. Sons of Fëanor, do you accept the task to find your father before he spreads wrath and wickedness across the lands of mortals?’ They stood as one, they turned their heads to face Manwë as one, and as one they did answer.

‘We do.’

There was a rumble of discontent from the crowd, but none were brave enough to stand against their king. Not even on a matter such as this, not even to save their mortal and elven brethren across the water. None, not even Tulkas, would stand against Manwë.

‘If you succeed your forgiveness is assured, and you may return to this place not as fëa, but as Elves made whole.’

And as each of the sons of Fëanor faded from the crowd’s sight, they all offered a small bow to the collective assembled, well, all that is except Celegorm who smirked at Tulkas and then winked, before he too vanished from sight.

Manwë clapped his hands as if to draw the matter to a close, but Tulkas could not tear his eyes away from the shaking figure of Varda sitting silently by her husband’s side. He could not tell whether she shook from sorrow, fear, rage, or even laughter, it had become so hard to tell lately. Yet one truth above all remained clear in his mind. The truth that perhaps, just perhaps, Lady Varda might have had a point about the rest of them.

Maybe they all were just one unbelievably stupid decision away, from destroying everything.

And that was the moment when the Valar, in all their mighty glory, heard that terrible, heart-wrenching scream. Vairë’s scream. And all thoughts of the terrible mistake they had just made, were suddenly gone from Tulkas’ mind; for there were more important things to attend to now.

#fanfic #lord of the rings #the silmarillion

0 notes

soctrust · 2 years

Text

Wild the innocent and the e street shuffle

The opening E Street Shuffle sets the tone, and gives way perfectly to 4th of July Asbury Park (Sandy), which eases along in its own way. Shane Reho: After a rather spotty (in my opinion) debut, Springsteen aims high and comes out with a masterpiece. That said, if someone asked me to name a song that sums up the energy, the bollocks and the sheer fun of rock music I'd be hard pressed to name a better song than Rosalita. Although I like a lot of his stuff I don't buy into the whole Landau "future of rock and roll thing about Springsteen. Incident on 57th Street lays the foundation of atmosphere and dynamics that would build Thunder Road and Jungleland.Īnd Rosalita? Entire careers have been pegged on songs half as good. It's maybe that striving that leaves me feeling this is an album that tried too hard at times. You can hear The Boss reaching for the heights he would scale on his next album. Because listening for the first time here and now in 2018 it's almost impossible not to hear it through the filter of what came after it. I'd love to go back in time to '73 and hear this album in its own right. B+." ( Robert Christgau (opens in new tab)) What you said The kind of album that will be fun to go back to if he ever gets it together enough to make us care. "The size and style of Springsteen's talent is suggested by the title, which I like, and this is very good in spurts, but it never coalesces. The truth is, The Wild, The Innocent & the E Street Shuffle is one of the greatest albums in the history of rock & roll." ( AllMusic (opens in new tab)) He would later make different albums, but he never made a better one. "The album's songs contain the best realization of Springsteen's poetic vision, which soon enough would be tarnished by disillusionment. While it may not have the same scope and grandeur of the album following it, Springsteen's mega-hit Born To Run, it contains more than ample doses of the lively spirit, youthful enthusiasm, and endearing optimism that made Bruce Springsteen not only a household name, but the epitome of the American experience." ( Sputnik Music (opens in new tab)) "The Wild, The Innocent, & The E-Street Shuffle is The Boss at his finest. Electric Light Orchestra - On the Third Day.Robert Fripp and Brian Eno - (No Pussyfooting).Mahavishnu Orchestra - Between Nothingness and Eternity.Bob Dylan - Dylan Outtakes recorded 1969–'70.Emerson, Lake & Palmer - Brain Salad Surgery.The Beach Boys - The Beach Boys in Concert.But once upon a time, that story was told through the wide-eyed perspective of a 23-year-old kid with a dream and an innate understanding of the hugeness of life’s daily experiences, like the passion of young love, the celebration of relationships, the struggle for survival, and the fireworks on the fourth of July. With his next album, Bruce Springsteen would conquer the world, and he has been telling America’s story with vision and humanity ever since. He would also name his band after the album’s opening track (ironically, it was this album’s keyboardist, David Sancious, whose mother lived on the real E Street in Belmar, N.J., though Sancious would not become a true E Street band member). He would continue bringing Sandy and Rosalita to life hundreds of times on stage, making those two girls the most enduring elements of this album. Perhaps those trippy ’60s records had, indeed, inspired what was his most ambitious and experimental production work, but Bruce Springsteen’s Jersey and New York remained spiritually far away from Pepperland.īruce never returned to such grand pieces, but that was only appropriate to the story he was telling: As life got tougher for his protagonists, so did their stories, their songs. If “Incident on 57th Street” was “West Side Story” in eight minutes, this was “Midnight Cowboy” in 10. The climactic “New York City Serenade” takes rock and roll closer to both classical and jazz than any more ambitious rock opera ever has, doing so with strings and even more characters from the seedier underworld of urban life.

#Wild the innocent and the e street shuffle

0 notes

blissfullyapillow · 2 years

Note

Is it possible to request two matchups for genshin?? one platonic and one romantic (both male if you want) I forgot the rules so sorry if this is wrong,,

my personality: I'm quiet and secretly shy but people think im intimidating when they first meet me. when i get close to someone, i start getting comfortable and casual but still introverted. i dont judge people and i dont mind what anyone does, even if its really bad, even if they did something to me. i can even purposely act oblivious and dumb when people do/say weird things to me because i dont want any awkward/ruined relationships. (for example one time my friend said he had feelings for me and i acted stupid and oblivious) it's really hard for me to show emotion, even when i feel emotions. for example when im happy, i look bored asf. my love language is acts of service. idk if this is important but i laugh (and text laugh) like "hmhm"

likes: i love animals, especially cats and red foxes. i love aquariums and marine life, especially octopi and beluga whales. i lovee sweets, everytime i go in a restaurant, i skip to the dessert menu

dislikes: Avocados. i honestly cant think of any dislikes because i really dont mind??

i dont really know what i look for in a partner, just that they would develop a soft side for their s/o. and i dont really care about friends. i have VERY different friends of all kinds.

–mana, also does matchmaking💪

Notes: Bro the way you laugh (and text laugh) is so adorable to me!! I hope you like/love the matchups I gave you. You do matchmaking too!? Ayo can I request something?? LOL

Back to Masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

I match you with: Arataki Itto

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

At first he’s a bit intimidated by you and he actually isn’t as loud as he usually is. When he musters the courage to approach you, he finds you not so intimidating and pretty adorable.

He notices your tendency to act oblivious, so he’ll go out of his way to bring things to your attention until you acknowledge it. When Shinobu scolds him for it, he comes to the realization that emotions don’t come easy to you. He’ll be more considerate when confronting you about things.

He admires your love language and appreciates all the acts of service you do for him! He’ll always give you a loving kiss or a hug in return, and he’ll do something for you as well! Sometimes you have to remind him that it’s not a competition, and he’ll ease up on the acts of service and gifts.

“You love desserts right? Well, I bought these for ya! No need to thank me babe. Just seeing your smile is enough for me!” Ittos’ enthusiasm always brings a beaming smile to your face.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

“Hey, I found this really cool thing and- y’know what. Lemme just show ya instead!” Itto happily shows you the thing he found. You avert your eyes and look elsewhere as you try not to laugh.

“Now, watch this!” Itto continues to demonstrate, and that’s when you can’t hold back the laughter anymore. “Hmhm.” You fail to mask your merriment, and Itto gives you a radiant smile.

“Alright, now, watch this!” Nothing is ever predictable with Itto tagging along.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

I match you with: Thoma

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’s patient with you and will let you have your space if you act oblivious about something. Although, he’ll be a bit pushy when he’s more comfortable with you.

He becomes really defensive when someone says something rude to you. Even if you don’t say anything at all, he’ll make sure to politely put them in their place.

He encourages you to speak your mind, even if it ‘ruins�� a relationship. The reality is, if something you say ‘ruins’ a relationship then the parties involved were meant to part ways at some point.

He adores any expression you make, even if it’s an expressionless one. You’ll catch him blatantly admiring your face from afar at times, but he swiftly turns around and pretends like he wasn’t admiring your beauty.

He learns how to read the subtle signs you give off to gauge how you really feel, even if your face doesn’t show it.

You love animals as well? He’ll invite you to play with the local cats with him, and he’ll even accompany you to track some wildlife and marine animals down, just so the two of you can admire them.

You both perform loving acts of service for each other, and overall you two have a very wholesome relationship together.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I already did that task for you. Hehe, no worries. Oh! You.. did that already? For me? Oh, well, thank you so much!” Thoma envelops you in his arms for a hug, and he relishes in the little giggle you let out.

“How about we go see the cats? Last time I went alone, they kept meowing for you.” Thoma tells you this as he intertwines his hand in yours, and you follow him to greet the sweet cats.

Dedicated to,

⊱ ──────ஓmananonyஓ ────── ⊰

#soothingmatchupsforthesoul #soothingyume

1 note · View note

fang-wife · 3 years

Text

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

voyeur | m. izuku

➳ tags ;; sub!izuku, dom!reader, watching hentai together?, reader is mean and nice </3, quirkless college au!izuku, corruption kink/religious guilt, unprotected sex/creampies, established relationship, afab reader

➳ wc ;; 2.1k

➳ a /n ;; @/sems-diarie made a post abt this a while ago n my brain wouldn’t let it be so. here we are </3

➳ plot ;; izuku didn’t sneak you into your dorm to watch.. this with you. but he has a habit of letting you do what you like.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

This is embarassing.

He knows this is embarassing - more embarassing than he really cares to admit to. He should really know better by now then to let you do as you please. You’re always stringing him along with your schemes and plans and he loses sight of his morals. His standards.

Then again, he doesn’t have any at this point. The point of him paying for this single dorm was so that he could have space to focus. It wasn’t to sneak you in when his R.A. wasnt looking. Even more then that, it wasn’t to do.. whatever this was.

It’d be one thing if he was having sex. That’s a normal thing to do in college, to sneak your partner in and smash. But you’re you, and all you ever seem to have planned for him are hair-brained schemes. It’s what this feels like - when you sit on his twin size bed and pat the empty space next to you. The distrust in his expression makes you laugh.. He sighs and does what you’ve asked.

“What’re you doing?”

He sounds exasperated. You laugh - too pleasantly for him to be comfortable. You type something into the search bar. Green eyes widen, skin warm and blushing.

“Wh-what’re you doing?”

You laugh as you prop the computer on the bed. You grin at him, tucking yourself under his arm. The website mocks him, all black background and animated women with huge tits covering the screen edge to edge.

“You know something, after you’re done using incognito mode - you’re supposed to switch out to regular search, you know,” you explain. Your hand rests on his thigh. Deku freezes.

The sound of your voice has always been something of a vice. It gets a little raspy like this - sultry in a way that has him squirming. He doesn’t know what to do. He can feel the heat of your body.

“Would you know my surprise when I borrow your phone to look up when the convience store closes,” you inch closer, press further “only to see..”

He knows what you saw before you announce it. His skin feels like it’s on fire, tuning out whatever description you’ve been giving of what he chose to watch.

Maybe it was the way he was raised - but he always had such a specific sort of guilt towards pornography. Always told himself he shouldn’t watch things like that, shouldn’t touch himself. Izuku had always been a good, well-behaved boy. Done the right thing even when it was hard.

Meeting you had changed that, changed him. He found his body craving you when he couldn’t control it and he ended up here - watching porn and jerking off with his shirt in his mouth. It’s all come back to haunt him, really.

“I’m not mad, y’know,” ― and your tone goes soft - it’s assuring enough that Izuku can whimper out an okay, but you’re not done ― “I’m just curious. Can’t we watch it together?,”

“That’s ― !”

You flutter your lashes him.

“That’s?”

He has a million words that he can say. That he should say. Bad, wrong, immoral. Words that belong at the end of the sentence to describe what he’s doing with you and what he’s considering.

None of that comes out.

“That’s.. too much”

You grin at him.

“Do you not want too?”

“..I didn’t say that, it’s just -”

Your hand squeezes his thigh until your stiletto's dig into them. Your mouth trails his jaw with hot, open mouth kisses until your turning his head to face you. A hand splayed on his face, tongue deep in his mouth. French kissing makes him pant - hands twitching eagerly to touch you. He watches, dazed - the spit trail of saliva that stretches between you two.

He’s so easy, it’s cute. You press forward with a chaste kiss.

“Show me what you were watching, Izuku,”

His hand trembles as he leans forward. He remembers the title - doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. Within seconds, it shows up and he clicks. You lean forward too, observing the tags with a small smile on your face.

“Milf, NTR, Gangbang,”

“S-stop reading them!”

You giggle.

Without warning - you press play. Izuku finds himself frantic. Worried about the sound, the time, all of it - but you don’t seem to care. The AD comes on and you skip that too. It’s on. A familiar arousal blooms in his chest, the memory of what he’d seen appearing. You settle between his legs, your back pressed to his chest. You bring his hands around your waist.

“Let’s watch ~”

Izuku face twists with displeasure. The plot nothing to ride home about - a lonely housewife goes out to a club and finds someone to take care of her needs. At first it’s just one stranger at the club - then two, then she’s surrounded and its too much.

Izuku assumes you’re gonna find him disgusting, but when he looks at your face - you’re smiling, heart-beating in your chest. His eyes blow wide when you take his hand between your legs. You’re wet and you’re letting him touch you and he’s trying his hardest not to show how much he’s shaking.

A little sigh of pleasure leaves your mouth when Izuku very carefully rubs your clit. It throbs under the pressure of big fingers - you hold his wrist and moan. He can hear the porn in the background but it doesn’t serve to distract him from you.

“You want me to go n’ get fucked by a bunch of strangers, ‘zuku?”

He shakes his head furiously.

“Then you just like watching depraved shit, huh?”

Unable to argue with you or with the the way his cock twitches and jumps in his jeans, he opts to whine. You can feel his it against your lower-back, the little wet-spot that presses to your thin tshirt. He’s too turned onto think properly - watching the way your body jerks and twitches.

The woman on screen is stuffed to the brim with cock - it’s all over exaggerated he knows, but he thinks that’s why he likes it. Maybe he just likes the idea of fucking someone that stuffed fulled of cum, how it leaks and pours onto every surface and the way her cunt just seems to take it. And Izuku is such a good, well behaved boy - it’s never crossed his mind to think about doing it to you.

And no, he doesn’t really want to see you get fucked by so many men but if there were more than one of him he’d be more than inclined to let you. His chest feels tight forgetting to breath.

He thinks maybe you’re some kind of witch because you always seem to know what he wants before he does. The right way to push all of his buttons.

“Oh, I see’ ― and he’s afraid of whatever words come out of your mouth next ― “you wanna fuck me full of your cum, Izuku? Wanna know how it feels raw?”

He moans - loud and shameless and needy against your ear. A breathless laugh leaves your mouth because that’s exactly what he wants. He wants to fuck you full of cum, just picturing how good it might feel.

You sit up on your knees and bend over a little - pulling short-shorts beneath the curve of your ass and thickest parts of your thigh. Your panties are drenched, clinging to your folds. He inhales sharply, frozen till as you lean forward - pulling them to one side.

“Take your cock out ‘n fuck me then, baby” ― you challenge, dark and dangerous. Everything about you is so sinful and too tempting for him to ignore. His cock aches ― “Do your best”

His body moves before he has a proper chance to feel shame. Whatever devils been whispering in his ear (read: you) has won whatever leftover dignity he has left. Without a proper word, his cock stands to attention. His hands are fidgety but they mange to settle on your waist. He guides you down on his dick, bottom lipped pulled between his teeth hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh, fuck”

He’s going to cum right away if he doesn’t take a breather. This is the first time he’s feeling you, and it feels so much better than he could understand. The lingering thoughts of the dangerous act silence by how tight and how wet and how willing your pussy is for him. The way your walls twitch - ache shamelessly around his cock. He’s fucking sliding in and out of you - it feels like a special privilege he’s done nothing to earn.

He’s shivering, over and over. When he looks down, he’s not all the way in. He’s not sure if he’s praying to god for the right reason - for forgiveness. All he can think about is how good it feels to be inside and how he absolutely doesn’t want to do anything else.

“How’s it feel, Izuku?”

He groans at the sound of your voice, the way you clench down on him and stretch so tightly around his shaft. He’s too wrapped up in the feeling of your cunt - like heaven and silk.

“F-feels so, so good”

Part of you thinks you should ride him, but another part of you is more interested in seeing how he fucks you. You snap the laptop closed and push it to the other side of the bed, before flipping around and laying on your back. His cock slips out and he snaps into reality - the way you have your legs in the air and your arms out.

“I’ll let you fuck me as many times as you want today,” ― your legs reach and wrap around his waist, easily forcing his cock back inside ― “go on,”

Izuku is a mess, really. His pants are only half-way pulled down and he’s wearing a nerdy graphic t-shirt. He’s borderline in hysterics over how good your pussy feels and can’t do anything other than thank you repeatedly and fuck you with an animalistic need. It’s clumsy like you’d expect, but he makes up for it with sheer enthusiasm.

His cock is long and pretty - hits every spot you need it too. Izuku fucks you with shallow, sloppy thrusts - so needy and chasing his orgasm. Selfish and inexperienced. Every time he pushes forward, you can feel he’s throbbing. Aching to cum inside and unload.

You reach a hand between the two of you to finish on your own time - planning on cumming before him. He doesn’t seem to care.

“Ngh, ohh my god, feel’s’good”

“Yeah? Gonna cum inside me, handsome? Makin’ such a pretty face for me”

His stomach churns at the way you call him pretty. It sounds so sweet and adoring - but he knows that you’re a bully. He knows that about but fucks you with all his strength anyways - overly frustrated and fucked out of his mind by the feeling. Like a drug. He likes you so much he feels stupid over it.

“Yeah, yeah ‘m gonna”

Your own orgasm washes over you in a pleasant wave, squeezing his cock with force. He gasp and goes faster - all the thoughts washed away from his head. He needs to finish more than he needs anything. More than he needs to sleep for his 6am work-out and 8am class. More than he needs to be quiet because the walls of his dorm are paper thin. More than he needs to exercise self-control, he needs to cum so fuckin bad.

“Look at me,”

He follows your command, like always - and you look amused and fucked out just like he is. And Izuku has really never been this into anyone before so seeing you evokes feelings he can’t understand.

“Oh, fuuck“

Briefly he understands that he really just came by looking at you, but nothing really makes sense to him. His eyes are heavy and he’s drooling onto your shoulder, spasming and clinging to your body with the most needy little whimpers. It’s so lewd, how he can feel his cum spurt out and coat your insides and his cock. It’s all so sinful but it feels so good, he can’t bring himself to care.

“So,” ― you smile, full of mischief ― “if you want to be like that, we’ve got a few rounds to go”

Izuku splutters at your comment and you laugh. He knows you’re not joking and he whines. You really are a bad influence on him. But with the way his cock is twitching to life again..

He might not be any better.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#deku x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #deku x y/n #deku x you #gonna post first w/o tags then add them in #knk ;; [ unprotected ]#sub!bnha #sub!izuku #knk ;; [ corruption ]

2K notes · View notes

infernalrevenge · 3 years

Note

Hello, hello! I was wondering if I could possibly request your take on Reader and each of the Dimitrescu Daughters with how they show affection? Nuzzles, kisses, hugs/snuggles, terms of endearment, gifts, nsfw, etc. One big fluff-ball. Just bury me in the warm fuzzy. Thank you!

This is excellent timing, anon friendo because I had been thinking of making a Love Languages Headcanon List for some time now, so this is a great way to start on that! I hope this satisfies your mushy fluffy warm fuzzball desires (that I kept relatively PG) :P

------------

Bela Dimitrescu

Bela felt that she had a reputation to uphold as the eldest daughter of the Dimitrescu family, ever so meticulous yet also eager to please. But she does know her boundaries.

More often than not, she finds herself busy with her mother in helping run the business, hoping to one day become a proper heir. I mention all this so you know her situation -- she's a working gal and you gotta respect that.

However, she is not one to leave her loved ones hanging. The best way she shows her love is by spending quality time with you, doing things that you might enjoy. It gives her a chance to better get to know her love.

Of course she would have her way as well, doing activities she liked such as art, music, and more. You two might even try something new to the both of you, just for some added thrill.

It doesn't always have to be "something" to do though, she's more than happy to just simply be in the same space as you while you do your own thing. That counts as "doing something together", right?

You could be reading a book on one corner of the room and she could be reviewing some important notes on the bed, but you two are just so comfortable in the quiet space you've made for yourselves that it feels like you two are side-by-side.

She just likes to know you're there, your presence alone is a great source of comfort to her. She loves to see you happy and content, especially knowing it's because she's around. Once you get into it, there is no such thing as an awkward silence between the two of you.

I imagine she's not that big on initiating physical affection, but she would be hard pressed to deny you anything. From something as simple as holding her hand, to spooning and cuddling, to a full-on make out session -- all you have to do is ask. She's more than happy to deliver.

Her favorite position is being the big spoon in bed, finding a lot of comfort in knowing that you are in her grasp, safe and sound. She also enjoys planting a few kisses on your shoulder and neck in an attempt to rouse you from slumber.

While she was still courting you (because I like to imagine she's a bit of an old-fashioned romantic, but she would have courted you regardless of your gender), she would often bring you gifts. They weren't extravagant, but they were definitely meaningful, and often related to things you two had talked about in the past.

She didn't use pet names very often but she will call you "love" on occasion, especially if there was a chance you would call her that in return. She may not openly admit it but she just melts every time you call her that -- made it feel like having a crush on you all over again.

Even though she may seem distant on the outside, Bela is truly a woman who makes the most of her time with people she cares about. You are no exception to that, and she wants that to be known to you as much and as often as possible.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Cassandra, much like her older sister, believes she too has a reputation to uphold within the family. Can't have her be seen going soft for just anyone.

But uh, plot twist: Girl just wants to be loved, and she doesn't even know it.

In private, she really really loves physical affection. She shows her love by clinging onto you as tightly as possible, melding so closely to you that it becomes hard to tell where her body ended and yours began.

She loves pressing her cheek and ear against your chest to hear the calming beat of your heart, the warmth of your skin just under her fingertips, and her head tucked right under your chin while you two lay in bed together.

Truthfully, she started doing this when you first got together because she enjoyed how flustered you seemed when she basically had herself wrapped around you. But over time, the both of you realized just how much she liked being this close to you too. You teased her for it once and she shut you out of your own room for a while. (She only let you back in because she suddenly missed cuddling you.)

This was a trait that kind of carried over from her hunting instincts, but she was very observant of others -- their tics, habits, routines, and all the like. She took notice of a lot of things other people did, didn't do, and couldn't do. It made her very attentive to her loved ones.

This manifested in the form of performing acts of service. Toward you, it ranged from simple things like keeping objects that were usually out of your reach to a more manageable height (either by her own action or an order to a servant) to helping you relax after a long and tiring day, to even performing your chores for you if she knew you were having a hard time with them.

Anything that she could help with to make herself useful, she would do. She wanted her loved ones to move around comfortably and without much worry, and she would take on that burden if that was what it took.

Granted it didn't necessarily mean she did well in these endeavors, but the effort did not go unnoticed. And you would never see the girl try to half-ass anything -- once she started on a task, you bet your sweet ass she was going to get it done too.

Her terms of "endearment" were very teasing and, out of context, could be downright insulting. You would never hear anything so generic as "baby" or "sweetie" (unless she was being condescending.) "Little shit" (affectionate) was more her speed.

If you also called her nicknames with a similar amount of creativity, she would return it with the same enthusiasm. She didn't take those things to heart anyway. If insults were a love language, this would be one of hers.

Cassandra is a little rough around the edges when it comes to love and intimacy, but she loves so fiercely. It's like a fire, raging on the more you feed its maw -- the only difference is that this fire would never die out.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Daniela is the most affectionate and most likely to be a hopeless romantic in the family. She always daydreamed of having a "knight in shining armor" of her own, but honestly she'll take anyone who would love her for herself.

Definitely the type to show off her wonderful significant other, either "subtly" through a bit of PDA, or more overtly through a lot of PDA and more grand gestures of love. Just let her do this, she has so much love to give and she needs that energy to go somewhere.

Even in private spaces, she would never let go of your hand if she had her way. Trying to separate from her when she wasn't in the mood would get you the "kicked puppy dog" treatment from her. It's not her fault you were so warm and nice to be around.

She loves being the little spoon in bed. There's just something reassuring about having a warm presence right behind her, your arms wrapped around her middle. You could even kick a leg on top of her waist -- all she wants is to get as close to you as she possibly can.

When you're working on a desk and sitting on a chair, she will inevitably sit on your lap and snuggle up against you while you try to do whatever it is you're doing. No matter how many times she promises that "you won't even know she's there", it's kind of hard to ignore the way she just buries her face into your neck and the little snores coming out of her if she falls asleep like this.

Calls you very cheesy and almost strange pet names like "honey pie" and "sweetie baby boo". You're never sure if she actually meant them or was messing with you because of her tone, but you can tell she was always amused by your reaction to them, which was part of the reason she kept saying them.

She did also have an inner poet though, so she may suddenly pull lines like "the moon to my night" that would make you stumble and wonder what had possessed your girlfriend. And then you would remember how much she enjoyed reading romance novels, so it made more sense.

Sometimes she'll pull them out early in the morning right as you two were just waking up, limbs entangled with the other's. Then you'd hear her call you "light of my life" in her deep sleepy voice, and you just have to hide the big goofy smile on your face behind a pillow or something.

She also loves to give you gifts, mostly because she liked how your face would light up whenever you received one. Oftentimes, they are little trinkets that remind her of you that she spotted one day and thought to give to you. Kind of like a cat presenting a dead mouse or bird to its owner, but not as gross.

She says "I love you" and any similar declarations pretty often, but the words never lose their meaning. Just know that she always says them with her whole heart, regardless of the tone she takes on when she does.

She also enjoys doing random acts of affection because she likes seeing how you react to them, whether you get all blushy and a little embarrassed, or you return them in kind. Either way, she is very happy and it gives her the warm fuzzies when you play along.

Like I said, Daniela just has so much love to give, and she would be so happy to see that energy enthusiastically returned. Just give her a chance and you'll never have to doubt her feelings for you.

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #bela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu headcanons #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu headcanons #daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu headcanons #daniela dimitrescu #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #anon #inbox #headcanon requests

225 notes · View notes

lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall · 3 years

Text

The Odd Rumble of Thunder - Thor x Reader

(A/N)

Hey guys! I wanted to personally thank you all for the kind comments and messages, they really inspire me to continue writing more and the support truly means a lot! Also, I just found out how to access post replies, I apologize I haven’t gotten to reading them since my first story, I’m still trying to figure out the gist of things here on Tumblr! Anyways, recently I’d only been posting more on Poseidon, so here’s a special one for our Norse god of thunder (aka the god I simp for the most). This idea came to me while out on a camping trip, I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback would really be welcomed and appreciated!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Odd Rumble of Thunder

Thor x Reader

Even before the news spread like wildfire, Thor had become under the tyranny of a good habit to bringing his wife with him wherever he may go. It stood to reason that he would never be so careless to invite you over to danger, hence why, at a god’s ephemeral notice, he had stopped seeking direction for his combative side, but when, at last, he had to venture, he made much quicker work of it than when he would have otherwise.

Inarguably, if you’d wanted to lay down and rest instead, it was a surety you’d receive your meals in bed, unbothered. But for Thor there was no guarantee he’d ever have to worry about you, so the whole of Asgard knew by now he’d drop whatever he was doing to accompany you, uncaring about diplomacy in the first place.

Not that Odin nor Loki minded either; especially since the Allfather knew more about the concerns of a father expecting their first child. Moreover, Loki enjoyed shapeshifting into his cousin during days he was absent. It was much more fun to cause mischief legally, as he would say.

Today, Thor stood by his wife who sat comfortably in her rocking chair on the porch, allowing a full view of the hills that sloped gently down to the grand gardens. You were seven months along, approaching the eight month, the swell of your stomach now far more prominent.

At the very moment you had begun to show, you had a companion of whom would almost never leave your side, your husband’s absence in the kingdom gradually becoming more frequent, more lengthened, till at last his presence among his people became an exception. Despite your constant reassurances that you would be fine, Thor insisted on staying, casually sweeping aside your thoughts regarding his habitual sense of duty.

“I would only be gone for nine months to tend to my wife and child, they should fare well on their own lest they are more incompetent than I would’ve thought.” Thor had told you once before, and you’d decided not to question him further on that. You understood your husband’s concerns, to be truthful, you had a few of your own as well, so having Thor assist you alleviated some of the stress and worry concerning your child’s safety.

Especially now that you were nearing your due date. For instance, you were having the toughest time moving, suffering primarily from the weight in your belly and pains in your back and legs that made walking and even standing difficult. What made the physical strain worse too was your child’s eagerness to know you and Thor both, unable to stay long in one position, much like their father’s enthusiasm for battle.

“How are you feeling?” Thor’s question rested upon a rather precise calculation of the last time he had asked the same only a short moment before. It was quite visible in his actions that he did not want to cause any negative feelings if he could help it, though desiring you to avoid stress as much as possible.

You smiled. “Come close. You’ve been standing there for ages just ogling at me.” You opened your arms out wide. “Are you not tired?”

Truth be told, despite Thor’s constant need to remain close to his wife, he felt a real, undeniable fear of touching you, specifically, your abdomen. He closed the distance between until he was right in front of you, staring down at you with hard eyes. Longing leaped like a flame reaching out in his celestial yellow orbs.

“Love, I am always grateful for your concern for me. And I am feeling much better just knowing you’re beside me.” You raised yourself up, pushing against the chair to try to stand. Thor rushed forward, held you then put his hands under your arms to lift you up. Your child was growing fast. “But how about you? How are you feeling?”

You inched closer, your fingers playing with the locks of his hair that you could reach. “Aside from the stress of waiting, I’ve noticed that you have something else weighing on your mind.

“Tell me, what is it?”

At the sight of you through his warworn eyes, his mind was filled with bliss. For that loving glance of yours, he felt a divine presence and holy atmosphere that seemed to pervade everything around you. Having an inkling of what you were hinting at though, he broke your gaze, in an attempt to avert the guilt you conferred on him.

“Please. We’re in this together, I would want nothing more than to help you back as much as you’ve helped me.” Thor felt you shift in his arms, get more comfortable. He felt the bulk of your child across his legs, the weight no doubt pulling you down. Seeing you in pain like that, was sad and unbearable, and the gnawing feeling grew stronger. And since he knew you were always so full of strength and determination, always unrelenting in your attempts to make him feel better, he began,

“I am afraid.” Red eyebrows drew together.

“Afraid of what?”

“That I might accidentally hurt you and our child,” Thor took a deep breath in then let it out in a sigh while taking a step back. “I do not want that to happen, even if I want to be at your side at all times. And this frustrates me to no end.”

Thor did himself a favor by giving attention to anything other than his wife, refusing to be a witness on the sadness and any he may have caused. Dealing with his own disappointment was nothing new, but he had trouble dealing with the fact that he was the cause of yourpain. He wished he could take his troubles which escaped, hanging in the air, and all the bad feelings on himself and let things continue as they were, but he knew it didn’t work that way. You needed to know that he only wanted you and your child safe and protected, even from himself.

He could not understand how the cosmos could play such a cruel joke on the both of you: you, bore so much pain because of one of the greatest affairs of life, and him, the strongest deity in the Pantheon, was powerless against the natural laws of existence.

Strong shoulders slumped, head bowing as stray strands of red hair fell over Thor’s brow. Not again. He did not wish to be reminded of the cautious sympathy his father and cousin had approached him with. His stomach lurched whenever the subject of your frailty came up. Dread and a terrifying fear overwhelmed his soul for the first time, the thought of losing you−

“Hey,” Your voice which lingered on the gentle breeze brushed against Thor’s face, pulling him out of his stupor. He refocused, turning his gaze onto your sweet face.

How were you able to hold yourself up well despite your obvious pain and suffering? Did you not bear the same nervousness as he did? The answer was obvious, practically screaming in Thor’s ears but became deaf following his guilt and clouded instincts. For a long time since you’d first told him about the news, he bore these worries in silence; but when at length he’d been perplexed by your introspection−or seeming lack of it. Why, in fact, did you concern yourself with him at all? Compared to you, there was hardly any threat to his own life posed. Why had you always done more to make him feel better when you were the one who needed it most?

Cutting through the haze he found himself in was the shape of you, or maybe your hair billowing in the wind, a wisp of it across your face, and then suddenly the feel of your skin, the sense of your head on his chest. Even if it were fleeting, that alone brought him the possibilities of comfort that he’d so needed. Oh, how he missed this; you cupped his big callously marble hands around yours, caressing them so tenderly, as if he were fragile and might break, so short it could never be pulled back.

As he relished the warmth of the blaze you gave him for the winter of unease, he’d realized much sooner that the coldness that inched its icy fingers up his spine still threatened to battle your kind words, you, his very own wife, and he detested himself for being unsure whether or not it was of his own doing; was he pushing you away when you’d only wanted to offer your help?

Thor’s immediate impulse was to pull back from you, abruptly halted by your fingers which slipped between his now splayed hand. You wrinkled your nose in a delightfully unguarded manner that caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Do you remember the first time we said our vows?” If only you knew the way Thor perceived you: in his eyes, your radiant smile reflected the morning sunlight of Valhalla, for a split second picturing the moment you’d walked down the aisle, that headpiece on your head instantiating the paradox of mystery that once lifted revealed your beautiful face, marking it the best day of his long life. Something warm bloomed in his chest once again and spread its heat out through every vein in his body. He remembered the smooth feel of the veil against his cheek after sealing your promise with a kiss, his lips parting with a breathless sigh.

“Your hands caressed my fit of nerves with light, tender touches and then inspired me with hard, passionate embraces,” With effortless ease, you lifted your intertwined hands to your mouth and kissed his knuckle. Thor watched with great admiration your every move, the desire to distance himself was now but an afterthought. Nothing would ever separate him from you when all you’d ever done was pull him closer than ever.

Then, you sought out his hand, kissing his palm as he stroked your face. You clung onto his arms, gripped at his chest as if you were searching for warmth, as if you needed his touch, and much like him, couldn’t bear to be even an inch away. His mind was still slowing its racing to let him mutter something in response, so he allowed himself to be entranced by how smooth and sure of yourself you were, with nothing to mar the calm serenity of your features. Your smile seemed to be a natural adornment, the utter gentleness in your eyes, reminded him of every morning when he woke up, he would see you by his side, as well as your sleeping snoring face. Right at that moment, the silly scream finally made it to the deaf god’s ears:

He was your haven,

The place you called home and went to find peace.

As Thor immersed himself in your smell, your sparkling eyes, he felt the excruciating cold all melt away in your warmth. No more seeds of doubt with which to sow and seek his destiny. Slowly, he began to see his surroundings from a keener point of view, realizing, then appraising them: from the passing wind your hair messed which he pushed aside, tucking it behind your ear, to how his sash seemed to fit him better indeed, rather than cling onto his skin even tighter as brutally as it had done before. He noticed the minute changes since he’d last taken a good look at you months ago: a little flusher on your skin, lines around the eyes a little deeper, a little increase in body temperature.

He pulled you closer, his actions not arising from calculation instead led by instinct. You let him take more of your weight, your belly pressed against his stomach as you sighed, his fingers working wonders on massaging the muscles that had been much abused in carrying the baby’s weight. A sudden wrenching through his sash struck Thor’s heart and had him holding his breath.

The baby had moved, and he’d felt it.

Bending down, he buried his nose in your hair, closing his eyes as he drank in your scent. Your arms wrapped around his back as he connected in this loving embrace, feeling his heart beat in rhythm with your own.

“Our child would no doubt love to be enveloped in their father’s safe arms,” With a light, gentle touch, your fingers ran through Thor’s hair, making him shiver with delight.

On that day, only the beautiful gardens of Asgard became privy to nothing more than a moment in which husband and wife reached for the same comfort and their concerns met. These gardens were simultaneously the very same place where Thor had first avoided the problems that plagued his mind, but also became exactly the same place where he’d find solace in the arms of his lovely wife.

Resting his hand on where his child was, he recognized that familiar feeling turning up, but upon realizing the bittersweet irony of and within these gardens, the revelation came to him: happiness could also come from the very object of fear.

And as you had an unmovable trust in him, there was an unspoken mutual understanding that he too, should put his trust in you.

#snv x reader #snv thor #snv thor x reader #thor x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok thor x reader

388 notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either…

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon…

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash.

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops.

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me demigods

1K notes · View notes

megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms · 3 years

Text

Crumbled Kingdom

Based on this request: Oooh, how about Labyrinth where the reader comes to the crumbled Labyrinth after Sarah rejected Jarath and reader helps his broken heart? I just need a little flangst, if that’s okay.

Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NOT mine!*

Fandom: Labyrinth

Warnings: Angst with a semi-happy ending, a little bit of tension.

Pairings/Characters: Jareth x reader, Hoggle

"I wish the Goblin King would come and take us away right now," you whispered. You felt slightly foolish saying the words from the book you'd grown up reading and had been reading to your young sibling when things got bad at home. While you were technically old enough to move out on your own, you couldn't leave your sibling alone. That night was particularly bad, prompting you to utter the words that part of you hoped would send you away where those people who neglected you would never find you.

Your hopes were answered when you woke up to a slight crying of your name. You opened your eyes to find your sibling looking down at you with wide, teary eyes. You were immediately on alert, shooting up to make sure they were okay. You looked around in surprise. "What the-" you began but stopped yourself. Little ears hear everything after all.

"I'm scared, Y/N." You hugged your sibling close and attempted to smile. You didn't want to frighten them more. You let yourself take in your surroundings. Something looked familiar and yet, not. Everything around you was in a state of ruin and chaos. Crumbled and moss covered stone stood alongside dead hedges like those that lined the walls of a maze. You knew you'd heard about a place like this before but it wasn't until you heard the trickling of water that you made any sort of connection.

You followed the sound of the water, holding your sibling close to you. It didn't take long before you stumbled upon a broken and algae-ridden fountain. But that wasn't what caught your attention. It was the creature that stood around the same height as your sibling. "Excuse me?" The creature jumped and turned to you.

"Oh, excuse me." You cocked your head to the side, your memory trying so hard to catch up with what you were seeing. "Who are you? C-Can you show us the way out?" The creature looked between you in confusion. "Two? There's never two. Name's Hoggle."

"Hoggle? Like from the book?" your sibling piped up. You glanced down at them and then back at Hoggle. "No fuc-freaking way. There's no way. It's just a story." Hoggle chuckled humorlessly. "A story. Tell that to the Goblin King. Ever since…since her, thing's been different."

"Her? Sar-" Hoggle shushed you. "Don't say her name. Jareth's magic may have lessened but he sends the Cleaners if anyone mentions her name. Broken, he is." You exchanged a glance with your sibling. You remembered your mother's stories about her "crazy" friend Sarah who told her all about the Labyrinth. Without a word, you knew that you and your sibling agreed that it was time to get out of there. You wouldn't go home, but you couldn't stay here. "How do we get out?"

"Same way as always. You have to beat the Labyrinth. Thirteen hours. But the Labyrinth is even more unpredictable than before." You nodded and sighed. "I know, but I have to try. I have to protect them," you said, gesturing to your sibling. Hoggle let out a groan and showed you the entrance to the Labyrinth. "Come on," you told your sibling, "And stay close to me."

*Several hours later*

Hoggle was right. The Labyrinth had been more unpredictable, but thanks to reading the book so often as a child, you knew which landmarks to look for. You learned from the mistakes of the book's heroine. It wasn't easy by any means, but it wasn't as difficult as you were expecting, although you did nearly get stuck in the Bog of Stench. Not that you'd say that out loud. While you hadn't seen hide or hair of the Goblin King, you didn't want to risk his wrath after what had happened with Sarah. Clearly it was bad if the kingdom was in such a state of ruin.

To your surprise, the drawbridge of the castle was lowered when you finally approached. You were exhausted and your legs felt like they were going to give out. The only reason you kept going was for your sibling. "We're almost there. Do you think we made it?" You have them a smile. "I hope so. Come on. We have to get through the castle. We have to see the Goblin King." Your sibling looked more scared than they had since the moment you woke up in the Labyrinth. You hugged them close. "It'll be alright. I'll protect you."

Your footsteps echoed on the stone floor of the crumbling castle. The sound was a mixture of ominous and comforting. It grounded you since you had absolutely no idea what to expect from the king when you finally encountered him. At the same time, the sound sent a shudder down your spine. It was far too quiet for such a large castle.

It took you a while and several mistakenly opened doors to find what you were looking for. The throne room. You pushed open the doors, expecting to be greeted by goblins or guards or traps. Instead, you came face-to-face with an almost empty room. The only person in the room was lounging across the odd throne. He didn't even look up at your entrance.

"It's him," your sibling whispered, "It's Jareth." You nodded, but kept your eyes on the Goblin King. You took a step closer, but froze when Jareth finally spoke. "Stop. Don't move." His voice sent shivers down your spine. He looked to you, swinging his legs off the arm of his throne and standing much more gracefully than you expected. "You've beaten the Labyrinth." You nodded. "Yes. We'd like to leave now."

"Then you know what you should say. Say it! Bring the rest of my kingdom crumbling to nothing! Just like her!" You jumped a little. "Y/N, I'm scared." That caused you to straighten yourself up and glare at the Goblin King. "This wasn't Sarah's doing," you stated, "This was all you. What kind of king are you?! It's a king's duty to care for his kingdom and his people! So what? Sarah left and you let all this happen! She was fifteen! A child! You're not a king. You're a spineless coward! A little kid playing at being a king."

Jareth's face twisted into a mask a pure rage before he schooled his features again. Before you could even react, he was in your face. You fought against your instinct to run away. For some reason, you didn't think he would actually hurt you. His nose touched yours and he hiss, "You know nothing."

"I know she hurt you. I get that. But you hurt your kingdom. Your people," you whispered to him. You knew about pain. You knew how it could cut you so deeply it seemed like you would never recover. It softened your heart toward him a bit. Your sibling called your name, prompting both you and Jareth to look at them. They were now surrounded by curious looking creatures. The goblins, you assumed. They were examining your sibling as if he had been hundreds of years since they last saw a human. Since you had no idea how time passed in the Labyrinth, it's possible it had been. They reminded you of children that needed care and love.

"Look at them, Jareth. They need you. They need their king. I think that's why they brought me, an adult, here instead of just (Y/S/N). They wanted to help you so that you can help them." Jareth scoffed, but didn't look away from the goblins. "You cannot help." You smiled a bit. "Maybe I can. If you let me. What harm could it do? Let me help you, Jareth. I swear I won't leave until I've at least tried."

Jareth backed away slowly, his eyes turning back to you. "Do not make promises you cannot keep. The magic of the Labyrinth will hold you until your promise his fulfilled or until you fade away." You met his gaze. There was a storm brewing in his eyes. You could feel the gazes of the goblins on the two of you as Jareth sized you up.

"I swear it," you repeated. Jareth continued staring at you, the tension in the room thickening. You heard giggles from all around you, but you ignored them. You were on edge as you waited for Jareth to say anything. "Do you really think you're strong enough for this?" You snorted out a laugh. "I think the better question is are you prepared to handle me? I've been told I'm quite the handful."

"Well you are!" your sibling interrupted with a laugh. The small goblins joined in the laughter. You rolled your eyes before turning back to Jareth. "Well?" Jareth took another step back and gave a small nod of his head. The next thing you knew, someone grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the growing throng of goblins. You couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm and your sibling seemed to be enjoying themselves.

As you were being passed between the goblins, you missed the miniscule smile that made its way to Jareth's lips. You didn't know it, but a small spark of hope ignited in his chest and he could feel the Labyrinth's magic seeping back out toward the kingdom. Maybe you were the key to rebuilding his crumbled king and, perhaps eventually, healing his heart.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

#labyrinth #jareth #jareth the goblin king #jareth the goblin king x reader #jareth x reader

611 notes · View notes

ahatintimepieces · 3 years

Text

It Comes Down in Buckets

Before Luka and Hattie ended up in Subcon, they faced many challenges on the road as they adjusted to Luka’s curse. This is a lil gift for Mak, @doodledrawsthings, and their “””Coffeeshop au””” where Luka pushes himself a bit too hard while trying to make the day special for Hattie. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 7,678

The rolling waves tumbled against the velvet sand and the morning sunlight skipped across the foaming crests, painting them gold. Hattie’s grip tightened around the old bucket she had found as she inhaled the salty, fishy air. Standing at the patches of grass that separated the edge of the forest from the beach, she gazed out at the shore. Her sketchbook waited in her backpack, begging her to pull it out and to memorialize the look of the sea and snapshot the ebb and flow of surging waves, but she had work to do.

She had to find the prettiest seashells before anyone else so she could sell them for some extra cash. Every little bit helped.

Weaving down to the beach, the warming sand caught between her toes and kicked up with each flop and flip of her flipflops. She swung the dented bucket with rust stains as she hurried to the lapping tide. She stepped into the water and immediately squealed before jumping back from the cold. The foam receded, as if teasing her, and an impish grin spread across her features.

As the water crawled back up the shore, Hattie fixed her old baseball cap and then leapt into the ankle-deep wave. Her initial screech dissolved into laughter. Splashing around, her flipflops tossed clouds of murky dust up and the sloshing, icy water splattered against her leg. She placed her hands on her hips and struck a pose as she gazed out at the sliver of light where the sky paralleled the ocean. With the cascading crackles of the snapping sea rumbling around her, it was hard not to let her mind wander into daydreams.

She could picture it perfectly. A calm day at the beach. No time limits for her dad, no worrying about money, and he could finally rest. He could finally be happy again. And she could play in the surf and chase crabs, pretend to be a pirate finding buried treasure, or draw and paint next to her dad as he napped. She could picture it so perfectly.

But she glanced down at the bucket as it bumped against her hip. Its creaking handle brought her back to reality.

Hattie let out a huff before shuffling out of the grasp of the waves, where it would be easier to spot shells. But before she did, a playful crest rolled back to reveal the tip of a fancy looking shell. Gasping, Hattie knelt and carefully tugged the shell free and revealed what she always thought of as a mini conch, though her dad would probably tell her that it was whelk of some kind since it had a rounder top and thinner end.

After checking the inside cavity for any snail or sea critter by poking a cautious finger around to confirm it was empty, she held the whelk to her ear.

She grinned when she heard the ocean. But she was also standing in it so the shell could still potentially be a dud. Nevertheless, she placed it into the bucket, and it slid around as she went searching for more.

As Hattie combed the beach, a couple people showed up to lounge on the sand or wade in the surf. It didn’t get crowded, since it was a workday, but when she wandered towards the opposite side of the long beach, where the sand was cut off by rounded boulders that jutted out into the sea, she ran into a tourist screaming at a seagull.

“What’s wrong?” Hattie called as she hoisted her bucket overflowing with shells to the side to make it easier to sprint forward.

“That darn seagull took my stuff!” The tourist gestured angrily towards a seagull perched on one of the rocks surrounded by water. It bobbed its head around as it stood proudly over a grey camera. Sunlight glinted against the lens.

“I’ll get it,” Hattie offered without hesitation. She placed the bucket down and scrambled up the boulders.

“Wait, kid, you don’t have to!” He waved his hands across his chest, trying to get her to stop, but it was too late. She didn’t listen as she assessed the slippery boulders and slowly navigated her way across.

She came to the edge of the final boulder and eyed the gap between it and the one in the waves. The seagull cocked its head towards her and let out a squawk. Pausing, Hattie glanced around, trying to figure out how to distract the seagull.

Before she could, the seagull snapped its beak towards something behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find the tourist was waving a sandwich around. The seagull swooped over her, and she belatedly ducked as it soared over to the tourist. He yelped and turned on his heels before sprinting from the squawking bird.

Hattie tugged her cap down in determination before turning back towards the rock. She took a cautious step back before lunging from the boulder and vaulting onto the next. Grunting after she smacked against the rock, she scrambled up and grabbed the camera. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and nestled the camera between her sketchbook and Professor Popcorn. For good measure, she tucked her dad’s hoodie around it to keep it extra safe.

Once her backpack was zipped, she looped her arms through the straps and got ready to jump back.

The tourist had returned to his spot, hunched over and panting with his cap askew and white and grey feathers stuck to his vibrant orange shirt. She inhaled a steadying breath and leapt back towards shore.

She misjudged the distance.

Nearly sliding over the side of the rock, she scraped her knee against stone as she clambered and clawed. Panic squeezed her chest until she could finally find her grip.

“Careful, now!” the tourist called as she hoisted herself up with her heart pounding. She glanced towards the worried man and gave him a thumbs up before crawling forward.

Her stinging knee threatened to buckle when she first stood, but she gritted her teeth and pushed onward. She navigated back to the beach and dropped down onto the sand.

“Geez, kid, that was dangerous!” the tourist sighed as Hattie pulled out his camera.

“But I got it!” She beamed, holding it out proudly. Her smile faltered when she noticed the identical camera that hung around his neck. His chin tilted down as he followed her gaze.

“I was trying to tell you, I have a spare,” he said apologetically. “But, hey! Since you got it, why don’t you keep it? It’s great for preserving memories!”

Hattie pulled the camera back, appraising the contraption.

Preserving memories? No matter how much she sketched all the places she and her father had been, it might be nice to be able to just take a picture to quickly capture everything. She could take a picture of the sea, in fact. But she stared into the curved lens with growing dismay.

Flashes of headlights and blinding snaps. Posters with blurry images of her shadowy dad offering money for anyone who could capture the pictured creature, dead or alive. And, even when he shapeshifted, he was still so jumpy around cameras.

Maybe she could sell it at a pawn shop for a little extra cash? In the meantime, it might not hurt to keep it on hand…

“Oh, hold on,” the tourist exclaimed, startling her out of her thoughts. She tucked the camera back into her backpack and blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “You got quite the scrape there, let me help.” He motioned her over to his set up on the beach, complete with a towel and umbrella.

After the tourist helped her clean up and shared back-up sandwiches he had prepared, she let him choose one of the shells to take as thanks and set off to sell the rest.

She set up a little area at the top of the beach, halfway between the rest of the city and the parking lot for beach goers. After doodling a cute sign declaring her wares were ready, she caught the eyes of passersby and wove imaginative tales about the shells for anyone who came near. Since this wasn’t the first time that she had sold items that she salvaged while her dad worked, she had developed a good enough sense to get a read on personalities and how to appeal to them. Parents with children were easily swayed by silly stories about the shells. She even managed to convince a businessman walking by to purchase one since her wares were far cheaper than the nearby souvenir shops that sold the same shells. And, after all, hers were higher quality and, really, didn’t he want to support an aspiring entrepreneur? (It probably helped her chances that she practiced that word a few times prior to make sure she was pronouncing it right).

She bolted when she spotted some cops patrolling the area, though.

By the end of the day, she successfully sold more than half of her shells. She tucked the coins and cash safely into an inside pocket in her backpack, where her secret stash would help her buy food for whenever her dad inevitably got stuck in noddle form and couldn’t work. She had tried giving her earnings to him directly before, but he had only gotten upset, insisting she didn’t need to worry about money and it was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. But they both knew that he often pushed himself past his limits, and he couldn’t do everything himself.

She was just beginning to collect firewood close to their camp when footsteps tracked through the grass. Hattie froze, turning towards the sound and holding her breath. Golden light flickered between the trees and an approaching shadow broke into the small clearing.

“Hey, kiddo!” Her dad, still in his human form, which surprised her, jumped forward with a wide grin and his hands behind his back. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, but he was alert with enthusiasm as he straightened. A plastic bag crinkled noisily as it swayed behind him. “Guess what I got for our most important celebration tonight?”

“Celebration?” Hattie tilted her head, though his energy was infectious, and she cracked a smile.

“Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is,” he teased, bringing his hand forward and adjusting the delivery cap he wore for his morning job of delivering papers.

“Payday?” she guessed, crossing over to their firepit and dropping the dry twigs and branches she found.

“N-no, kiddo,” he faltered, quirking a brow as he revealed a plastic bag with local dollar store logo. “It’s your birthday!”

“Oh.” She blinked up at him.

“Did you really forget?” His features fell and the worn creases on his face highlighted the underlining fatigue. “We talked about it, right? When we were-when we were moving.”

“Y-yeah,” Hattie said. She did sort of remember now that he mentioned it, but she hadn’t thought too much about it since they had other things to worry about. “I just forgot what day of the week it is.”

He didn’t seem to believe her but he accepted the excuse.

“Well, I got hot dogs and marshmallows,” he added quickly, pulling out a bag of large marshmallows for emphasis. If he sensed how she tensed, he ignored it and gestured towards the direction of the beach. “I thought we could start a fire at one of the communal firepits and have a cookout!”

“What about our camp?” Hattie gestured to the little circle of rocks they had set up a few days ago when they first decided to settle in this city.

“It’ll still be here,” he promised. After tucking the marshmallows back into the bag, he walked over to her pile of wood and searched for the longest and cleanest sticks.

“But the beach is out in the open,” she pressed, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Don’t you need to change back?”

“Of course not!” he insisted with a little more force than he probably intended. In a lighter tone, he waved his hand dismissively with a smile plastered across his face. “I can hold it together long enough for your birthday. Come on! Let’s have fun!”

He placed a few sticks he deemed worthy for hot dog and marshmallow roasting into the plastic bag and then motioned for her to follow.

“But—” she hesitated.

“You know, I used to do this when I was a kid,” he jumped enthusiastically into the memory, not giving her a chance to argue. She frowned but grabbed her backpack and the bucket that still had the leftover seashells.

Hey, if they were going to be on the beach, she might as well keep an eye out for more.

“Any time we went camping, we would grab a bunch of hot dogs and marshmallows. Of course,” he added a bit quietly as they walked through the woods, “usually we had buns and graham crackers and chocolate. But I did snag some ketchup packets from the restaurant!” He beamed proudly.

Hattie forced a smile, though guilt gnawed at the reminder that he had worked two jobs that day, trying to get enough money together so that they could find a motel to stay at sooner than later. She considered giving him the money she had saved, but she didn’t want to cause him more grief especially since she could tell he was masking his exhaustion. Maybe she could hide the money where he would find it with his things? She could pass it off as him misplacing the bills!

Though, both of them had become increasingly vigilant when dealing with money in the past couple years. He would have noticed if that much went missing in the first place.

“Here we are,” he gestured to the firepit closest to the forest the second they walked onto the sand. “Sit tight while I get the fire going.” There was wrapped firewood next to the pit, all ready for them and their cookout. His water bottle was also leaning against one of the logs, indicating that he had stopped by before running to get her. While he finished setting up, Hattie gazed out at the sea.

The water mirrored the stretch of twilight. Orange-pink rays of dwindling sunlight lingered on the horizon and the occasional star twinkled in the darkening sky. Crackles and pops that came from the growing fire behind her mingled with the surging waves before her. And when her dad joined her side and held out his hand, she smiled as she took it, keeping her gaze locked on the horizon.

“It’s like that one picture in the book at the library in the last town,” she whispered, craning her neck back to meet his warm golden gaze. “The one with the watercolor illustrations!”

“It is!” he agreed, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

“I want to paint something like this one day,” she admitted, turning back to the sea.

“I bet you can, and sooner than you think.” His smile permeated his voice. He gently tugged her hand and nodded towards the firepit. Despite the lines under his eyes, he did seem happy, and that was good enough for Hattie.

“Okay!” She joined him on a log, and eagerly waited for him to pass her a stick he doused with water to keep it from burning.

Her dad filled her in on his day as they roasted the hot dogs. He got her laughing with a few jokes his coworkers shared, and she nodded knowingly when he told her about some of the customers he had worked with. When he asked about her day as he broke open the bag of marshmallows, she explained that she was looking for seashells and presented the bucket with her findings.

“Quick, if you have twenty seashells and I take five, how many do you have left?” he quizzed.

“F-fifteen!” Hattie blinked, hesitating only a moment as she registered the question.

“Good girl,” he praised, passing over a marshmallow.

“If you bought one bag of marshmallows for tonight, how many marshmallows will you have tomorrow morning?” She blinked up at him, trying and failing to conceal her growing smirk.

“Hmm.” He speared his own marshmallow as he gave her a wry grin. “That’s a tough one, why don’t you give me a hint?”

“Zero!” She pulled her burning marshmallow out of the fire and quickly blew on it.

The flames dissipated into a plume of smoke, leaving a burnt crust behind on the marshmallow. Without waiting, she popped it into her mouth and the gooey burst of molten sugar melted on her tongue.

“Becath I’ll eat ‘em all!” she declared through her sticky mouthful.

“Just don’t choke!” He chuckled before putting his arm around her and giving her a side squeeze. She immediately snuggled into his side, comforted by his warmth.

As they worked through the marshmallows and the night cloaked the beach, Hattie pulled out the hoodie and tugged it over herself. The hoodie was far too big since it was her dad’s but despite the floppy sleeves and how it was more like a dress on her, it was cozy and kept the night chill away. She became even cozier when her dad plucked her up and enveloped her in a hug.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispered as he nuzzled his cheek against hers.

“Hap—erm,” her cheeks flushed since she had almost wished him a happy birthday back. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and gave her a tight squeeze.

“Okay, I have one more surprise,” he said, arching back and stretching his arm maybe a bit farther than a human arm should, and rummaged around the plastic bag.

She leaned over, trying to peek and his other hand moved over her eyes.

“Don’t look!” He shifted around a bit before Hattie felt something lower into her lap. “Alright, now you can.” He pulled his hand away and she immediately glanced down.

Watercolors. A plastic palette of watercolors rested in her lap with a tiny brush snuggly tucked into a divot on the side. A single golden ribbon was taped on for the birthday wrapping. Her chest tightened as she imagined all the things she could paint, all the things she wanted to bring to life with water-soaked pigments.

But how much did he spend on her?

“Well?” he prompted with an edge of nervousness. “Is it okay?”

“I love it.” In one swift movement, she hugged the palette before swiveling around and burying her face into his chest. A lump threatened to lodge in her throat, but she swallowed it as she hugged her dad.

“Oh, Hattie.” He leaned over her and held her tightly. “I’m glad. I know it’s not much.”

“It’s perfect,” she promised, grasping his shirt.

He did so much for her, sacrificed so much just to take care of her, and now this? She wished she could do more to help.

After a few moments of lingering in his embrace, she pulled back while rubbing at her eyes.

“Everything oh-ahem.” Her dad suddenly pulled his hand away from his task of brushing her hair back. She wrinkled her nose as she blinked up at him.

He held his hand behind his back and his nervous, forced smile revealed his growing fangs.

“Dad,” she shuffled out of his lap, “you need to change back.”

She glanced around the beach quickly, relieved that there was no one nearby to see him.

“No!” He winced when an edge of a reverb tainted his voice. He cleared his throat and waved his other hand dismissively. It had completely turned ebony-violet. “I’m fine! I can hold it for a little long—” he stalled as he glimpsed his other hand and snapped it behind his back too, “—longer.”

Hattie frowned with her brows drooping. His irises radiated golden light as his pupils faded.

“Please. I know I can—” he faltered, pulling his hands back and holding them out before himself. His fingers trembled as they dripped, trying to reconnect. He bit his lip and grimaced when his lengthening fangs jabbed him. The familiar, purple-singed shadows spread from the expanding tips of his chestnut hair.

“It’s okay,” she insisted, turning around and rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie to start cleaning up so that they could head back to camp. She knew he was probably more exhausted than he let on.

“But it’s your birthday,” he whispered in such a broken voice that she felt a world of guilt press against her shoulders.

“And I can still spend it with you as a noodle!” She kept her tone light, giving him a smile strained from her concern.

The gold had encased his eyes and his teeth became backlit by a surging light in his throat. He considered her with tight dismay before scowling.

“No!” He pushed to his feet. “No, I can do this!”

“But, Dad,” Hattie called anxiously, unable to do anything but watch as he paced by the bonfire.

He held his hands out in front of himself, clenching them as he stared daggers into his purple palms. During his pacing, his legs began to quiver, and he paused, hunching as his hair began to drip. His fingers merged into mittens, taking on a gloopy appearance and Hattie thought that that was it, that he would just start getting bigger. She opened her mouth to try and get him to focus on saving his clothes, but the words died in her throat.

“Stop changing,” he wheezed in a wavering voice. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he strained to keep a human shape. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, snuffing out his golden light. The flickering fire cast twisting shadows against his trembling form. His arms lost all pretense of having bones and flopped down like limp noodles. His legs buckled and he thrust out his hand to catch himself.

“Something’s wrong!” Hattie hurried to his side, reaching out as his mitten hand clenching the sand lost its shape entirely and expanded into a puddle.

“N-no,” his reverberating voice gurgled behind globs of dripping purple that stretched across his mouth when he parted his lips. “I can do this!” But just as he said that, he grunted and lurched forward. Viscous liquid oozed from his shoes as his legs melted.

But they didn’t form a tail.

They just pooled out uselessly behind him.

“Dad!” Hattie placed a hand on his arm, but it collapsed under her touch. He let out a strangled cry as his whole arm gave away and he slammed against the beach.

He continued to melt despite his groaning and straining. The trembling shadows spilled from his clothes and into the sand. Panic seized Hattie’s chest as she feared she was going to lose him to the beach. Glancing around frantically, her gaze fell onto the bucket, and she lunged for it.

“Hold on!” Hattie called as she dumped the shells out and slid over to her father, who had gone eerily silent as the pooling liquid oozed and spread.

She dropped the bucket into the sand and quickly tried to shove waves of the viscous liquid inside, catching particles of sand with it. Once half of him filled the rusted bucket and kept spilling out, she righted it before scooping up purple globs. She tossed handful after handful of the soupy remains of her father into the bucket. The trembling sludge sputtered and splashed. Tears stung the corners of her eyes when she saw some liquid darkening and fading into intangible shadows that disappeared into the sand, gone for good.

“Stay with me,” she whispered in a cracking voice as she scooped up every last bit that she could.

After wringing purple from his shirt, pants, and the edges of her sleeves which had tumbled into the puddle a few times, Hattie searched for any of her father’s features in the goop squelching against the edges of the bucket.

“Dad?” She lightly prodded the thick surface of the liquid and it shivered. A muffled groan bubbled up, though no golden light from his eyes or mouth followed. Hattie sighed, sitting back in the sand as she convinced herself that the fact that he had groaned meant he was still there. But now just as soup. In a bucket.

They’ve been through worse, right? This, too, should pass?

“Okay, you just sleep while I clean up,” she muttered as she pushed to her feet.

She collected their things and put out the fire, all the while glancing at the bucket as the goop settled. Once she had the plastic bag slung over her shoulder and her birthday gift tucked into her backpack, she slowly picked up the bucket.

“Oof,” she huffed as she heaved the bucket up, wincing when droplets splashed over the side. “Why is magic goop so heavy? That’s stupid,” she grumbled as she slowly made her way across the dark beach and back to their camping area. As she paused multiple times to give her arms a break and catch her breath, she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and pushed onward.

Luka groaned and on top of the usual reverb that came with his noodle body it sounded oddly like the gurgle of a garbage disposal choking on water. He blinked tired eyes and the golden glow rebounded against the daffodil-yellow inside of Hattie’s baseball cap.

Oh. Had he shrunk down and dozed while Hattie was shopping? That didn’t seem right. Actually, what had he been doing before this?

A surge of panic bubbled up as he recalled trying to hold onto his humanity at the beach. He remembered the tighter he held the form, the more it slipped through his clenched fingers. He heard a slosh of thick liquid when he tried to lift his hand.

He couldn’t lift his hand.

He couldn’t even turn his head! His eyes darted around frantically, catching the rim of some sort of curving, metal wall in the corners of his vision but he could only really look straight up at Hattie’s cap.

“K-ki—” he sputtered as some sort of gunk trickled into his mouth. Expelling wet coughs only caused more of the viscous goop to slip in. His anxious attempts to move coupled with his hyperventilating only increased the panicked sloshing that sounded like puddles disrupted by pricks of rain.

“Dad?” Hattie’s sleepy voice responded.

“H-help I’m—” he gagged on a particularly large glob.

“Hold on!”

He tried to spit out the gunk and a heavy droplet plunked against him. He shivered from the sensation but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Relief swelled when the cap was removed and Hattie looked down at him, with sunlight filtering through the trees. Squinting at the sudden light, he tried to squirm around.

While not happy, she at least looked safe and sound. She wore his delivery cap, and he could see the dangling strings of his hoodie. If the sunlight was any indication, he must have slept through the night. He grimaced, hoping she hadn’t been too uncomfortable or cold without his coil to protect her from the elements.

“What’s going on?” he forced out, feeling like he was talking through a wad of bubblegum.

Hattie sat back, making it harder for him to see her at his angle. He twisted to try to get closer.

“You’re in a bucket,” she answered tiredly. When she glanced up and realized she was wearing his delivery cap, she jolted and swiftly took it off.

“A bucket?” he echoed in distress. His eyes shifted around as he glimpsed the walls and the occasional splash of purple-black goop if he moved too quickly. He blinked.

“Oh my god, I melted.”

“Yeah,” Hattie sighed as she rubbed her eyes with the baggy, purple sleeve. “Are you okay?”

“Um.”

No.

“I’ve been better.” He winced, realizing all the gunk that was getting caught in his mouth was himself. Fantastic.

“Do you need anything?” she prompted with hesitation as she glanced around. “Like water or something?”

“I need to get out of this bucket!” He pushed his eye against the rim, and he felt himself ripple. “Here, dump me out! I can try to—” he coughed, “—pull myself back together.”

“I lost so much of you on the beach though,” Hattie objected. “And y-you just disappeared, like the goopy stuff turned all shadowy.”

He caught the crack in her voice, and frowned, both from hearing how part of him just up and evaporated—okay, a lot of him if what was left of his monstrous noodle form could fit inside a tiny bucket—and from how much he had frightened her.

“I can’t stay like this, though,” he argued. “I have work! And you can’t stay in the woods on your own!” He shifted around, trying to figure out how to stretch his neck or anything but his neck and everything was gone! First, he lost his body and now he lost his monster body? This wasn’t fair! He couldn’t live like this!

In his frustration, he tried to will himself to have arms or hands or even his tail would work. The goop bubbled and frothed, and he grunted from the strain, but he could do it! He could pull himself together!

“Stop!” Hattie commanded. He yelped as he felt small hands jut into the goop and scoop up his features.

He felt himself spread out and winced as strands dripped back down into the bucket with heavy plops. It was like the world and his body were spinning around him, disconnected and far from his grasp as his head remained stagnant but stuck. After blinking and spotting Hattie’s thumb acting as a barrier as trickles of him slipped through the cracks of her fingers, he grounded himself in her frustrated blue gaze.

“If you keep hurting yourself, you’ll just make it worse!” Her nose scrunched up into a hard scowl, but he heard the lump in her throat underneath her irate bite. “Just stop!”

“Sorry,” he gurgled quietly. Her brows furrowed even more, and he added as gently as he could, “I’ll rest, kiddo. I’ll take it easy.”

“Promise?” She stared him down.

“Promise,” he breathed out, slumping.

She lowered him back into the bucket and a soft bloop sound was followed by flickers of drops as she pulled her hands out. He hummed to relieve some distress as he tried to force himself to relax.

“Maybe you just need sleep,” Hattie offered. She grumbled a bit, but he could tell she was trying to soften her tone.

“That’s usually all it is,” he agreed.

He did feel a similar exhaustion to all the times he pushed his time limit and got stuck in noodle form. Only this was much worse. Even when he was a human, he wasn’t sure he could ever remember a time he was so tired that he couldn’t move his muscles.

Leaning his eyes against the rim of the bucket for some semblance of security, he desperately hoped he wouldn’t be stuck like this. But even if he did eventually turn back to monster-normal, he had a sneaking suspicion he really screwed over his already sparse shapeshifting time.

“Do you want me to put the hat back over?” Hattie lifted her cap into his view. “To help you sleep?”

“No,” he said a little quickly. She lowered the hat and he added, sheepishly, “I know I can’t see much from here, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay. Go to sleep. Let me know if you need anything.” She scooted over to their campfire, and he heard the click of the lighter.

He sighed but tried to let the distant crackle of flame and the low tap of Hattie sketching on paper lull him into a semi-relaxed state. His eyes closed into tiny slits and as he dozed, a gentle and continuous rumble bubbled up from within.

“Dad?” Hattie whispered after a stretch of time, scooting back into view and looking down with her hair slipping from behind her ear.

“Hmm?” His eyes cracked open, slowly registering the rumbling sound. In his peripheral vision, the surface of the ebony-violet goop rippled steadily.

Hattie cracked a grin.

“You’re purring!” she said in slight disbelief before exploding into giggles.

“I’m—?” he began before he recognized the familiar and involuntary purr. A dusting of faint gold emanated from beneath the surface of the goop as he blushed.

“The whole bucket is shaking!” Hattie covered her mouth as her laugh trickled out in mirthful chimes.

Despite himself, Luka smiled, glad to hear her laugh.

“I guess it looks pretty silly,” he admitted, imagining the bucket wiggling around. Though now that he was becoming more alert, the rumbling slowed to a stop. In their absence, he realized how comforting the vibrations had been.

Hmm. Maybe the purring was a way to pull himself back together? It wasn’t something he could force or speed up, though. Typical.

“Do you want any food?” Hattie perked after she calmed down from laughing. “I was roasting some hot dogs.”

“I’ll try a bite,” his eyes and mouth shifted up and down in an affirmative nod that sent tiny waves splashing against the side of the bucket.

He couldn’t really tell if he was hungry, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to eat but he would do anything that would help him replenish some energy.

When Hattie returned with a torn piece of a hot dog, Luka opened his mouth and let out a gurgling, “ah.”

With a giggle, she gently lowered the hot dog as close as she could before dropping it. He felt the hot dog plop down and coughed. Hattie winced in apology as he closed his mouth and pensively chewed.

“I’m fine,” he said after a thick swallow. He couldn’t feel the lump of the hot dog anymore but in the past few years of dealing with his magic, goopy body, he learned to not ask questions he couldn’t answer and near the top of that list was wondering what the heck replaced his melted digestive track.

Hattie fed him a few more pieces and he swallowed the dismay of not being able to feed himself. Even though he had grown accustomed to relying on Hattie for help when his chameleon paws couldn’t work with delicate silverware, the familiar sorrow from the early days returned now that he didn’t even have hands.

After what he was certain was a late lunch, he napped on and off as Hattie remained nearby. When he would check in with her, she would present her latest sketches proudly, and even had one completed work in watercolor. It was a scene of the ocean, and while her sketchbook paper wasn’t meant to hold so much moisture, causing it to crinkle and warp when it dried, she excitedly explained that she was going to do other paintings exactly like it, but all showcasing the ocean at different times of the day. He told her that he was eager to see them, overjoyed that she was having fun with her gift like he had hoped she would.

If only he had been able to save up enough for a motel in time for her birthday, or at the very least, if only he hadn’t melted on her. But that was really his fault for pushing himself so hard.

He had just so badly wanted to make it special. She hadn’t even remembered her own birthday! What else was he supposed to do? Let himself turn into a monster? She deserved to have her actual dad on her birthday.

“Hey, Dad?” Her voice drew him out of his sinking despair.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he shifted his eyes in the bucket, trying to find a position that best allowed him to see her.

“What should I tell your boss?” She held out his phone, which was lit up with messages with letters in all caps.

Luka groaned.

“Can you read the messages for me?” He mentally prepared for the nerve-wracking ordeal of trying to explain himself without admitting to his boss that the reason he couldn’t make it to work was because he turned into a bucket of silly putty.

With Luka directing her, Hattie responded to the understandably angry but maybe harsher than necessary texts from his boss at the restaurant. Once that was done, he let out a heavy sigh, accidentally blowing a bubble in the goop, which shortly popped and splattered. He flinched when a drop landed in his eye.

“Do I have anything from the newspaper office?” Luka asked, dreading the thought of not only the manager getting upset when he found out no one had delivered newspapers in the morning, but of all the people who would no doubt call to complain about empty doorsteps.

“No,” Hattie replied slowly.

“Really?” Luka wasn’t sure if he should count that as good or bad. Either way, he was probably out of a job. “I’ll need to start looking for something else.”

“Why?” Hattie scooted closer, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked down at him.

“They’ve probably already decided to fire me,” he lamented with his mouth sinking and gurgling in the gunk.

“Nah.” She glanced away, tapping around on his phone.

He blinked up at her.

“Nah?” he repeated. When Hattie kept her gaze down and her lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. “Hattie? What did you do?”

“I maybe did your deliveries for you?” she offered guiltily.

He stared at her.

“You what?” he sputtered, causing his sludge to ripple as panic seized him. “By yourself? Hattie! You just turned eight! My route is a couple miles long, and you would have had to bike before dawn! There are child labor laws! What do you mean you did my deliveries?”

“I had help!” Hattie hurried to explain. “I ran into a nice tourist I met yesterday, and he gave me a map and delivered half of the newspapers for me.”

“You worked with a stranger?” Luka demanded, shifting around in the bucket. “Harriet Princeton, you are not supposed to talk to strangers!”

“So, I’m only supposed to talk to you?” She threw her hands up in the air.

“No! I mean—that’s not the point!” he faltered, sloshing around as the bite in her words stung. Bits of goop splattered over the rim and Hattie jolted.

“Stop freaking out!” She helplessly tried to grasp at the stray droplets. “I can’t lose you again!”

He paused, tensing. Well, tensing as much as he could as a viscous liquid.

“Wh-what do you mean lose me again?” he pressed tightly.

“I thought you were gone when you melted,” she said with a cracking voice. She hugged her legs and rest her chin on her knees. “I thought I didn’t get all of you in time and you were gone, and I just wanted to help because you’re so tired all time but—” she trailed off in a squeak as tears filled her eyes.

“Hattie—” he shifted towards her, but the goop sputtered as he instinctively tried to reach out to his daughter. Liquid stung his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “Hattie, look at me please.”

She turned and revealed tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gold blurred his vision, but he pressed on.

“I’m sorry,” he began in a congested voice, thick with gunk and reverb. “I know you were just trying to help, and I appreciate it! But I don’t want you worrying about my jobs or money. You shouldn’t have to.”

His voice cracked and all too late, he realized that the reason he sounded so congested was partly because of the golden tears filling the bucket. They glittered in the goop, separated like oil drops in water. His breath hitched and the goop swelled.

“But I can—” he tried to continue as the tears slipped out and the goop splashed up when he instinctively tried to wipe them away with a hand that wasn’t there.

“You’re spilling!” Hattie interrupted, jolting upward and hurrying over, placing her arms around the rim but the added tears were causing his anxious sloshing to spill over. “Stop crying!”

“What?” He jolted, shifting his eyes around and catching glimpses of purple and gold staining her sleeves. Her dismayed features above him only encouraged his tears and he made a muffled sniffling noise as panic surged and his tears swelled.

“Dad!” she yelped. But her own distraught features cleaved through his squishy, melted chest.

“I-I can’t! Give me a moment!” Twisting away, he tried to lock his eyes on something to ground himself, but in his panic, he kept attempting to turn and wipe his tears. The spilling goop sloshed uncontrollably.

“Try to laugh!” Hattie begged. “Tell me a stupid joke!”

“Ah, uh.” He pressed his lips into a tight line as he struggled to think of something. “Um. You know what? This situation really pails in comparison to—uh—that one time we teleported into that bear den!”

“What?” Hattie furrowed her brows. But it looked like her tears halted in confusion.

“P-pails, like a pun? It’s a joke. It’s supposed to be funny. Please laugh,” he said weakly. He blinked and let out a tight exhale as he felt himself calm and the rest of the goop start to settle.

“That’s a stupid joke.” Hattie sniffled as she leaned back and slowly lifted her arms, revealing sleeves soaked with purple sludge.

“I got buckets of them.” He added a sardonic, “ha,” as the gold ebbed. While a few dancing droplets of tears wiggled in his goop, now that he was calmer, trembling splashes no longer spilled over the rim.

Hattie wrung out the sleeves. He flinched at the droplets that pelted his face and sent ripples along the surface.

“That’s even worse,” she sighed, though a small smile found its way onto her features. She tugged up one of her sleeves and gingerly reached over and wiped at the edge of his eye.

He grunted, squeezing it shut but when she pulled away, he watched her flick a golden droplet towards the grass. He sighed, blowing a few bubbles.

“Please don’t do my job tomorrow,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.”

She nodded slowly before thinking better of it.

“Only if you promise not to push yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” he said tiredly before he yawned. Sludge dribbled into his mouth, and he sputtered.

“Sleep.” She poked the goop. He shifted his eyes next to her finger, which was the closest he could come to giving her an encouraging nuzzle.

“What about you?” he asked, staring up at the canopy of leaves. There was still sunlight trickling down, but it seemed fainter.

“I can eat soon,” she shrugged.

“Wake me if you need anything,” he muttered, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Did he even have eyelids at this point? Maybe it was more that his eyes were sinking. Might be more apt.

Hattie promised to, but he had a feeling they both knew she would deal with any problem on her own before waking him. Frowning, he supposed the best thing he could do for her would be to recover as swiftly as possible.

He settled into the bucket, and soon enough, the sludge began to ripple as he automatically purred. He caught Hattie’s stifled snort at the vibrating bucket before he fell asleep.

Night blanketed the forest by the time he woke up again. Still purring, he blinked as he felt something shift. The rippling rumbles of goop seemed to be tightening and when he moved to lift his head, he peeked over the rim of the bucket. Relief swelled inside as he spotted Hattie’s back. She was drawing by the fire, safe and sound.

Edging backward, he tilted his head down, blinking at the vibrating goop as it slowly re-solidified into shape. After a moment, he lifted his noodle arms and wiggled his chameleon paws. Funny, he was actually relieved to see them for once. Once his tail formed, he heaved out a sigh. There wasn’t a drop of him left behind in the bucket, but now he took up less volume.

“Kiddo,” he called softly, floating up to the rim of the bucket and placing his hands on the edge, curling his tail beneath himself.

“Dad!” Hattie gasped when she saw his familiar form. Scrambling around, she darted over, and he flew up into her embrace.

“You’re tiny,” she muttered into the plush fluff around his neck. His tail waved back and forth as he returned her firm hug.

“I’m sure I’ll get back to normal size,” he guessed. Probably. After a long enough rest without using his shapeshifting.

Moments passed until he caught a low grumble coming from Hattie’s stomach. He craned his neck with a smirk.

“In the meantime, are there anymore marshmallows to share?”

“I ate them all. Remember our math quiz? Zero left.” Hattie said without missing a beat as she turned back around and brought him to the fireside. “Just kidding, I saved you some.”

“That’s my girl!” His tail waved harder as he chuckled.

He extended an arm towards the bag, noting that he couldn’t really stretch it like usual, and made a grasping motion. Hattie plopped the bag into her lap, still using an arm to hug him, and they both took turns popping the confections into their mouths.

Yes, after a week’s worth of rest, he would grow to his usual massive size and when he could shapeshift again, he would have to deal with the consequences of missing so much work. But until then, he and Hattie would take it day by day and one marshmallow at a time.

#ahit coffee shop au #doodledrawsthings #ahit prince #ahit hat kid #my writing #*kickflips into ur tumblr experience wearing rubber fishing suspenders and a cap that says 'words want me. ghost dads fear me'*#Me: Bucket's haunted #You probably: What?#Me not breaking eye contact as i grab a pail and head for the exit: Bucket's haunted #this got very long whoops #but i hope its a fun read!#thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

257 notes · View notes

unresolved-kpop-thirst · 3 years

Text

happy trails

pairing - yuta x reader

genre - smut, lil fluffy

contains - dom Yuta, chubby f!reader, outdoor sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it fr), D/s, fingering, some body love/praise

wordcount: 1.7k

summary: hiking in the woods and getting it on in the great outdoors like nature intended.

"Can we take a quick break?" You ask, doubling over to brace yourself on your thighs for a quick second. You didn't recall this hiking trail being this hard, and you were evidently not prepared for the steeper slopes in the second half.

"We're not too far from the point where it's all downhill," Yuta reassures you, retracing his steps and offering you a bottle of water. Seeing how out of breath you are, he smiles sympathetically. "But we can stop a while here."

"Thanks." You take a swig of water. It's not like it's too tough, you're just a bit out of shape from a whole ass quarantine spent mostly indoors. Yuta seems unbothered, but he had kept up dancing while the world was shut down so it's no surprise he's lost very little athletic ability in comparison.

This trail usually is a cinch for both of you, more for relaxed sightseeing than a challenging hike. You lament your lack of fitness and find a spot to sit and rest amongst the roots of trees lining the dirt path.

"Ugh, I'm in worse shape than I thought," you admit. Yuta crouches in front of you, elbows resting on his knees.

"It's not that bad," he reassures you. "A year of being a couch potato doesn't look too bad on you." He pokes your cheek and you bat at his hand.

"I know full well how you feel about it," you say, narrowing your eyes. He smiles, angelic, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Last night he had squeezed your hips, your thighs, where you've become softer in your sedentary lifestyle, and described in detail how good you felt under his hands. He had surprised you a bit with his enthusiasm for your rounder, softer body, but then you had a sneaking suspicion he would like any type of body as long as it was yours.

That said, the aforementioned enthusiasm was part of why you were struggling today; your inner thighs had taken a battering from his hips and you rode him for nearly an hour, making up for lost time. You'd had better ideas in your life than hiking after a session like that, but the way Yuta always lit up in nature swayed you to go anyway.

He rocks forward, falling onto his knees, and nudges your legs apart with his hands sliding up your bare thighs to the hem of your shorts. You glance up and down the trail. You're not well hidden, but you can't see anyone.

"Yuta~" you sing-song, patting his head. "Whatcha doing?"

"I just missed you," he says, smiling brightly. He shifts to grasp the back of your thighs where they meet you butt, a ticklish spot that makes you squirm.

"We spent all yesterday together," you remind him, "and I'm here now."

"Mmhm," he agrees, kissing your inner thigh. "So I want to touch you more."

"Maybe somewhere a little more hidden?" You suggest, making him grin as you grab his hand and you both stand up, you leading further into the trees.

It's a warm, bright day, and the long undisturbed forest shelters you from the direct sun. Still, when you find a spot well hidden from the path and turn to Yuta, the dappled light on his face is so pretty you have to kiss him.

He cups the back of your head with one hand, the other resting on your waist, and despite what you said moments ago you sigh in relief now you're getting to kiss him again. It really was too long; your body missed him just as much as your heart did. He slowly presses you back until your back hits the trunk of a broad tree, then tugs your hair gently to change the angle and deepen the kiss.

When you run the tip of your tongue along his lip he opens to you eagerly. Just kissing him excites your instincts, a pulse of heat building in your lower stomach. His fingers dig into the soft give of your hip, making you let out a soft, encouraging little sound. His tongue explores your mouth, re-mapping you, claiming ownership, eliciting faint whimpers and moans until his hand glides down your stomach and slips under your shorts.

He finds your clit, skimming over it with his fingertips before pinching it between the pads of his fingers and rolling it between them, and you can't help the needy sounds that leave you or the way you arch up against him, greedy for his hands all over you, his lips on yours. You can only whine in disappointment when he breaks the kiss to look at you.

"Cutie," he says, but it sounds like you're getting a telling off. "You can't be so noisy. What if someone hears you?"

On the contrary, that spikes another sound from you, a startled little cry while he continues playing with your clit.

"I forgot, that's not a problem for you, is it?" He goes on, tucking his tongue into his cheek for a second to suppress a smile. "You like when people watch. When they hear how well I fuck you, the pretty noises you make with me inside you."

You nod mindlessly, his continued attention and his words twisting up inside you, making you clench down around nothing, a gnawing need growing in the pit of your stomach.

"You want me inside, don't you, baby?" He asks, a hint of pity in his voice, and you give him the puppy eyes.

"Mmhm," you respond, taking his wrist gently in your hand and tugging him closer. "I want your fingers inside me, puppy, please?"

The use of your affectionate nickname for him makes him smile warmly, before he slides a finger into your slit. You roll your hips, pulling him deeper and giving an encouraging moan, and then a squeak of surprise when his other hand presses firmly over your mouth. You blink up at him.

"Be quiet," he warns. You nod dumbly. As he starts moving his finger inside you your sounds are muffled against his hand, and you cling tightly to him. He crooks his finger against your g-spot, makes you yelp and buck your hips forward, before he surges forward and presses you into the tree trunk, pinning you there and assaulting that spot inside you until your cunt tightens down around him. "Cum for me. Right now."

You can only obey, a flush of heat rolling over your skin, the tension breaking and your muscles fluttering around him as you cum with a muffled whimper.

He pulls out, manhandling you until you're pressed face-first against the tree and he unfastens your shorts and pulls them down to your knees. "You want your puppy to use you, baby? Use his favourite little toy?"

You gasp as you feel the head of his cock press at your entrance from behind, slipping in your slick, stretching you already as it pushes an inch into your needy cunt. "Y-yes- please use me, I wanna make puppy feel good..."

He drives his cock into you with a firm shove, bottoming out with his hips against yours, growling low against the back of your neck when you gasp and moan at the way he stretches your cunt mercilessly with his girth.

"Feel that?" He asks, grinding into you, and your body allows him entrance, moulding to the shape of him while you whimper from the sheer pleasure. "You made your puppy so hard. You're such a good little toy. I'm gonna breed my pretty toy now, fill you up with cum."

You push back against him and feel his arms come around you, one hand grasping your shoulder and the other on your neck. Then he draws his hips back, slamming back into you to elicit a choked groan. The full force of his thrusts borders on painful, but your pussy clenches and drips around him, serving its purpose as a tight, wet hole for him to use to get off.

"You're squeezing me so tight, baby," Yuta pants. "It feels that good? You like getting your pretty little cunt pounded like that?"

Between his hand on your neck and your barely muffled cries, there's no way you could start to respond. You nearly sob as he brings you to another mind shattering climax, upping his pace as you clamp down around him.

"God, I love feeling my little toy cum on my cock. Makes me wanna breed you." You cry out, feeling him pulse and grow harder inside you, his deep thrusts turning your mind and your legs to jelly.

"Yes, please," you choke out. "Fuck me full of your cum, I'm yours, all yours, puppy."

He growls, movements verging on feral, his nails digging your shoulder as he rails you for all you're worth. His other hand goes tight, cutting off your sounds and your air supply, and you grit your teeth, another orgasm ripping through you before he shoves deep, giving a few short and sharp thrusts and filling your insides with his seed.

You tap frantically at his wrist and he releases you, letting you heave in a few deep breaths and get yourself under control. Yuta rubs his cheek against the back of your neck, almost like he's scent marking you.

"Ugh," he groans. "You drive me crazy. You know you do, right?"

You laugh breathlessly. "I kind of gathered."

He laughs with you, his arms around you turning into an affectionate back hug as he softens inside you. You sigh, content, but aware you can't stay like this forever. Eventually, Yuta gives a brief warning before pulling out, his cum dripping out and down your inner thighs, sending a hot shiver through your body. He pulls your shorts back up, your panties getting soaked from the mess he left, making you squirm.

"Yuta," you whine, "that's gross."

He leans in, kissing your cheek and jaw. "If you prefer, next time I'll gather it up on my fingers and feed it to you." You squeak, both mortified and weirdly turned on at the image. He chuckles. "But this time my little toy gets to walk home proud to be soaked in my cum. Okay?"

Dizzy and sub-spaced, you nod obediently, and he pats your head.

"Good. We've only got about a quarter of the trail left. Let's go."

#yuta imagines #yuta smut #yuta x reader #nct smut #yuta x reader smut #nakamoto yuta x reader

227 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Sweet Creature

A/N: Based on ‘Sweet Creature’ by Harry Styles. I was listening to it earlier today and this idea popped into my head.

Summary: Reader and Tom hit a rough patch and Tom’s not sure how to fix it but he knows he’s not going anywhere.

Warnings: Swearing.

W/C: 2.9K

You’d been with Tom for a while now and like every relationship it’d hit its rough patch. It wasn’t like the first year and a half of your relationship when you’d have a small argument and figured it out before you fell asleep. This was always something you’d made sure you did when you first moved in.

You’d done what most couples did when you felt that small change into chaos rise, you’d ignored it, assuming maybe the other was just tired and not spoken about it.

It presented itself in the way it usually did, your tempers with each other became short and the snapping started. You were both stubborn to a fault and didn’t take the responsibility of apologising.

“Did you really have to snap like that Y/N?” Tom had sighed when he joined you in bed.

“Look, you pissed me off. Sorry okay.” It wasn’t sincere and you both knew it; you were being stubborn. But Tom was more patient than he gave himself credit for and let it go. He knew you were stressed. You’d done the same for him the day prior.

That’s when the next issue would present itself. Tom was a very touchy and loving person, always wanting to present his love through all the affection he could. He always claimed having you in his arms felt like home. You didn’t sleep without his arms around you in some way, shape or form. Until you did. The snapping had ultimately reached a point that had you sleeping annoyed with each other and so, you stopped holding each other.

Then the next step. You’d both had enough and an explosive row had started about absolutely nothing. Neither of you could recall just what it was that started it but it grew into something it wouldn’t normally need to.

“Fuck sake Tom, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.” You’d screamed at him, slamming the washer shut; you were both so angry.

“Like you can fucking talk Y/N. What is this all about?” He’d yelled back at you as you made your way into the living room.

“I don’t know how many times I have to ask you to do simple things. It’s not that hard and you’ve found a million different ways of not doing a single thing today.” You seethed.

“I’m busy! Just because I’m not on set doesn’t mean I don’t have work to do.” He shouted as he slammed his script down on the coffee table.

“Whatever. Leave me to do fucking everything!” You screamed as you slammed the living room door shut, leaving him there with his anger.

That was the night you stopped sharing a bed completely. He took himself into the guest bedroom and you didn’t talk about it. That stubborn streak in both of you taking a firm hold.

After that it was awkward. You avoided each other, not wanting yet another explosive row to take place. You’d had too many over the last couple of weeks and left it you both tired. It was as if you’d forgotten how to communicate properly. Neither knowing what to say to fix it and not wanting to upset the other.

You both felt that distance settle in your chest. You hardly spoke, you didn’t touch and you missed each other in bed. Tom had almost given in one night and as he was about to make his way back into your shared bed, he faltered at the door. Sighing and shaking his head as he made his way back into the guest, well ‘his’ room. He wanted to rip the stubborn streak out of both of you and if it was possible, he would, in a heartbeat.

You’d started to find it unbearable. The distance was becoming too much. You missed him. You’d even take another argument at this point, you just wanted to feel any kind of emotion from him. He’d gone out to visit his parents, mumbling something about ‘needing some air.’ As soon as he left you broke down. You cried, the painful ache in your chest was too much. His side of the bed didn’t smell like him anymore, signalling just how long it’d been since he’d been in there.

You made your way into what had become his room and picked up his hoodie that he’d had on yesterday, you brought it up to your face and let his scent fill your senses. You’d forgotten just how good it was. Tears streamed down your face as you pulled it over your head. You made your way into his bed and let his scent take over everything. You cried for what felt like hours into his pillow.

Tom came back from his parents; he’d had a long chat with his dad about his frustrations. His dad had comforted him saying you’d fix it and find your way back to each other, that you were young and still finding the right way to navigate yourselves and he felt some of his resolve dissolve. He shut the door quietly and took in how quiet it was. He worried for a second that you might have left, but he knew you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t take off without saying anything.

It also confused him that Tess hadn’t come to say ‘hi’, maybe you’d taken her out? Then he heard it and it broke his heart. You were crying. He made his way upstairs and into the room you’d both shared. You weren’t there. He furrowed his brows as he made his way into his new sleeping residence.

There you were and you were crying so hard and so loud, he knew you’d not heard him. The sight made his heart rise and fall at the same time. It was an odd feeling, you had his hoodie on and you were curled up in ‘his’ bed, face planted in ‘his’ pillow and Tess wrapped up with you. She always did comfort you when you were sad, not leaving you for second. Seeing you in his clothing made his heart soar but the pain in your cries made his heart drop, all at once.

He moved towards the bed and made his way into it behind you. He took you into his arms and it seemingly made you cry harder. His heart was aching more than it had over the last few weeks. He missed you, he missed you being in his arms, missed your scent as much as you did his. He knew it wasn’t the end of the two of you, that it was a rough patch but that didn’t make it any easier.

He was glad that he wasn’t due to go away for a while. He realised he needed to fix it, do something. He just didn’t know what. He was somewhat scared to approach it, it had seemingly spiralled out of his control but he would and he was determined to. For now though, he just held you as you cried, feeling his own tears fall.

You still hadn’t spoken about what happened, although you fell asleep like that. The feeling of home slowly making its way back into both your chests. You had to go out that morning and you felt something shift back towards normal when he’d kissed you and told you he loved you before you left. You wished more than anything you could avoid this outing but you couldn’t.

Harrison had decided that he was going to visit that day, texting Tom to ask if he was in. When he got his reply, he made his way to his best friend’s house. He knew something had been off due to Tom’s lack of enthusiasm in their recent conversations and had decided that he needed to lend an ear.

“What’s wrong Tom? You seem off.” Harrison had commented slowly. He got a sigh in response.

“Me and Y/N are fighting. I think. I don’t know.” Tom dragged his hands over his face and sat further back in his chair.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Have you had a row?”

“Yeah but that was like two weeks ago. We just aren’t talking at all really.”

“What was it about?” Harrison was trying to pry the information carefully from his best friend.

“Fuck knows, I can’t remember. It was stupid I know that much.” He sighed again. “We’ve both just been so stressed, we were snapping at each other a lot and I don’t know it just exploded a couple times and now we’re just left with the aftermath.”

“Have you talked about it?”

“No.”

“That’s the problem Tom. You should talk.” Harrison had a stubborn streak to him but it was no where near as bad as Tom’s. It was simpler in his mind.

“We’re both so stubborn Haz, neither of us wanted to bring it up first and I don’t know, be the first to apologise. Fuck, I miss the days when we didn’t let it take over, when we’d made up quickly after an argument.” Tom felt the tears again but he didn’t let them fall.

“Look, I know I’m not as stubborn as you two but the answer is still clear, you need to talk before it gets any worse.” Harrison said as he patted his friend’s back.

“We’re not sharing a bed.” Tom suddenly stated and Harrisons eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“That bad?” Tom just nodded.

“She cried yesterday and it was the first bit of emotion we got from each other in ages.” Tom sighed again as the memories of your cries flooded his mind.

“That’s good right? She’s feeling the same as you?” Harrison asked.

“I guess. But I didn’t know what to say to her. It’s like I don’t know how to fix it. It’s not like either of us did anything worse than the other, we both let our stress get to each other and treated each other poorly as a result. I love her and I know this isn’t the end of us, I can’t imagine being with anyone else at this point Haz but fuck, I don’t know what to do.” He let a few tears fall, quickly wiping them away.

“Do something for her.” Harrison suddenly suggested.

“Like what? What if she doesn’t want me to?”

“Look, even if she doesn’t want you to, it’ll force a conversation. She was crying Tom, I’m sure she does want you to do something, she’ll be just as lost as you. Do something nice for her, make her dinner.”

“I can’t cook Harrison.” Tom reminded him with a soft laugh.

“Call Sam. He’ll tell you what to do. She’ll appreciate the thought.” Harrison comforted him.

“You’re right. I think maybe we just need to remind each other how much we love each other.” Tom sighed.

“Yes, you do. Now stop being so fucking stubborn. Don’t let her slip through your fingers mate. I’ve never seen you so happy with another human being.” Harrison laughed as he clapped his friends back again.

You’d been gone all of the morning and afternoon; it was almost six o clock before you made your way back into the house. You had a little time to clear your head, you were ready for a conversation, you can’t let this continue on. You made your way through the door saying a quick ‘hi’ to Tess as you furrowed your brows.

What was that smell? It smelt amazing and you knew Tom had not inherited the same culinary skills his brother had. Your feet padded into the living room in search of your boyfriend. He wasn’t there but you heard him in the kitchen.

“How do you have the patience for this? Are you sure that’s everything? I don’t need to add anything else?” Tom asked whoever he was talking to. You made your way into the kitchen and were shocked by the sight before you. Tom was cooking, it smelt amazing and you wondered for a second if this was Tom. You cleared your throat and he turned around. He looked at you and gave you a shy smile.

“Sam I Gotta go. Thanks bro. I will.” He said as he ended his phone call.

“Who are you and what have you done with Tom?” You teased lightly and he laughed.

“I can’t take all that much credit. Sam guided me through everything but I made your favourite.” He said shyly. There was still an awkward tension in the air but it was better than yesterdays.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.” He said confidently. You took a moment to scan the room. He’d laid the table as if you were at some fancy restaurant. Your heart soared as you smiled. He’d even bought a bottle of your favourite red wine.

“Oh Tom.” You suddenly sighed, happy tears finding their way to your eyes, a stark contrast from yesterdays. He’d completely taken himself out of his comfort zone to do something nice for you and you couldn’t be more grateful. Whatever it was that was going on between you was slowly dissipating. He smiled sheepishly at you.

“I’m gonna go run a bath, this needs another hour before it’s ready.” He said as he made his way upstairs. You sniffled quietly as your heart felt like it was slowly gluing back together. He returned five minutes later and took your hand in his.

You followed him upstairs as he took you into the bathroom. You slowly undressed, he watched you as you slipped into the tub and smiled. He’d missed seeing you naked. It wasn’t a sexual need that had settled in him. It was that comfort and that trust that you felt at home enough with him to let him see you like this. He followed suit, finding his way behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He said as you shook your head.

“No I’m sorry Tom. I was being stubborn and I should’ve apologised sooner.”

“We both should have. I love you.” He said as he kissed your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

“I’ve missed you.” He placed a few loving kisses to your neck as you sighed and rolled your head back onto his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too. So much.” You said as you kissed his cheek. He smiled as he pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“We gonna be okay?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be okay.” You said confidently.

“Can I come back home?” He said sheepishly. You furrowed your brows as you turned round to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“Back to bed, back in your arms where I should be.” Tears were brimming both your eyes as you looked at each other. Normally, you’d pull him up for being cheesy but you couldn’t, this wasn’t the time. He was being vulnerable.

“Tom.” You sighed as you took his face in your hands, wiping the tear that had slipped down his cheek. “Of course you can. I still love you okay, that hasn’t changed, we just hit a rough patch.” You said as you kissed his forehead.

“I’ll be damned if I ever let my stubbornness take over again.” He sighed as he manoeuvred you back to your original position.

“You will and I will but it’s okay. Couples fight Tom, that’s normal. We’ll frustrate the hell out of each other at times but that’s okay as long as we still love each other. As long as you always come home.” You said as he kissed your shoulder again.

“I’ll always come back to you.” He concluded as he grabbed your shower gel and washed you. You silently cleaned each other up, fixing each other’s hearts as you went. It was loving and sweet and intimate and just what you both needed.

You ate your dinner and wow, it was amazing, you made a mental note to text Sam and thank him for his teaching skills. You cleaned up together and it was playful, normal. Like when you’d first got together. You had music playing softly in the background when your favourite song came on and you remembered your brother’s wedding you had attended six months ago. You and Tom had danced to this and you remembered your brother joking about how the two of you looked like the newlyweds.

Tom reached his hand out to you and you laughed. You’d already passed up one opportunity to tease him, you weren’t going to let this go.

“Do you not think this is a bit like the ending to a Hollywood romance film?”

“I am an actor sweetheart.” He teased back as he laughed.

Nevertheless you took his hand and he pulled you into his chest, you stayed like that in the kitchen. Slowly swaying but just enjoying the comfort of being in each other’s arms. Tom knew that you were it for him, that he wanted you and only you. It didn’t matter where he was in the world, he knew his end goal was always going to be to come home, back to you.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n

365 notes · View notes