#i have hated that my whole life 😭 i refuse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

healmydesires · 1 year

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MELT AWAY

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; the night you give your love and body to your husband.

⇢ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff + smut (best friends to lovers)

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, soft!dom Anthony & sub reader, missionary, doggy style, hair pulling, dirty talk. Anthony has a big dick idk if this should be tagged but... yeah. he also gets off to the fact that the reader is smaller/less tall than him. lots of overstimulation, morning sex. soft/rough sex. praise kink. lots of pet names. daddy kink.

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10,4K (yes I’m insane)

⇢ 𝒂/𝒏: can’t believe that I’ve deleted my blog when this post was at 4K notes 😭 but yeah I’m reposting it, so if you recognise it. yes it’s from me! pls show it some love again! 🫶 can also be found on my ao3 here!

⇢ I don’t want minors to interact with any of my mature posts! thank you very much! 18+ only!

You never thought that Anthony would be the one you’d grow closest to, considering he’s a couple of years older than you. You’d think Daphne or Eloise would be your best friend. While you’re close to every Bridgerton, nothing could ever be as strong as your bond with the Viscount. It’s funny, you think, how life can bring you things and people you didn’t know you needed. People like Anthony, who became so important, it makes you question how you’ve spent your life so long without them.

But your feelings for the Viscount blossomed into something more than platonic after only a few months of knowing him.

You both fell in love with each other, fast and hard. Anthony was the first person you’ve ever fallen in love with. Whenever he would look at you or say your name or talk to you, your stomach would erupt with butterflies. You’ve never had any strong feelings for anyone before him and you knew he'd always be the one to be on your mind at all times.

Anthony was there for everything, he’d seen you grow older, he was there when you learned how to dance, or how Benedict taught you everything he knew about art, over the years he saw you become an even more beautiful woman. He was there when you debuted into society, he was there when multiple men tried to court you only for him to be overprotective and tell you they would never be good enough.

You never understood why he’d be so overprotective, but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. You’d always welcome any type of attention or care you received from him.

The Viscount has always loved and cared for you even before he could name the feelings he has for you.

He can speak about every inside joke you both have, tell everyone what your favourite colours are - because yes, you didn’t have just one favourite colour, he knows all your favourite books, knows how much you loved stargazing. He knows your favourite flowers. He knows that you’re very sensitive and have some occasional sensory issues.

He knows how much you love the arts and that you have a soft spot for animals and children. You love creating art yourself. He knows how you love with your whole heart, or hate something like your life depends on it. You like to read books during your free time, getting lost between the pages. Just like his sister Eloise. You love sunsets and sunrises, even if you’re not really a morning person.

Anthony likes to think that he knows everything about you. Except he was pretty oblivious to your feelings you had for him for many years.

Everyone knew about your feelings for each other, for so long, except for yourselves.

Until one evening, when Anthony once again refused you to accept a courtship from a potential suitor. Telling you once again that no one is ever good enough for you. That evening something snapped inside you, with tears in your eyes you asked him if there’s something wrong with you. You truly thought that one day he’d care for you too but to you he seemed like he only saw you as one of his sisters.

Or so you thought.

That evening he confessed how much he cares for you, how you’re always the one that’s on his mind. How you’re the only one he wants but couldn’t seem to admit it to himself and his family for so long. He said that the reason he kept telling you no one would be good enough for you, is because he wants to be the one to marry you. He told you how much he loves you with so much emotion that you were too stunned to speak for a while.

With tears in your eyes you eventually explained to him how much he means to you and how you’ve loved him since the first time you both met. Soon enough he enveloped you and kissed you with so much passion that every time you think about it, chills go down your spine.

Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue thinking about your relationship with Anthony. You’ve lived twenty-five years, and throughout the vast majority of it - the Viscount has been your only constant.

You always knew that Anthony would be the one for you. But being married to your best friend is truly something that you never thought would happen. For so long you thought that it would only stay in your fantasies, yet here you are on your bed on your wedding night, daydreaming about your husband.

Sighing, you pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your knees and stare at the lit fireplace in front of you.

A small shy smile plays on your lips as your thoughts continue to drift towards your husband.

You’re all alone in your newly shared bedroom when you finally notice how much you’re sweating and heating up. All that dreaming about Anthony made you nervous and warm. You know he’ll join you in your bedroom soon and knowing this makes you blush harder. It’s your wedding night, the night that would change everything forever.

Why are you so hot all over? It’s so silly, you feel extremely feverish, and your heart can’t find peace and quiet, nor can your trembling limbs.

You’re warm. Tingling, like anticipation but threaded into your nerves, and heat. And you feel your body throbbing, all at once, whenever you think of Anthony.

“God,” you whimper as your thoughts keep wandering towards him and what you would do tonight.

You’re biting your lip nervously as you continue to stare off into the fireplace, until you hear the door creak open, revealing the man of your dreams leaning against the doorway.

It still feels so surreal that you’re both able to say that you belong to each other now. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good he looks, how beautiful his heart is and how caring and loving he is.

He’s smiling as he takes you in, you’re wearing one of your night gowns that were specifically made for your honeymoon nights. His eyes continue to stare at you as you feel yourself grow even more nervous. The warmth inside you continues to rise, your cheeks becoming more hot as you look at him.

“My dear wife,” he says softly, his voice low. You start biting your bottom lip once again and his smile grows as he notices you becoming more shy at his words.

Slowly, he pulls himself away from the doorway and makes his way towards you. You gulp as you notice several buttons being undone from his shirt, showing you some skin. Heat travels to your cheeks once again once you realise you’re staring. You quickly try to avert your eyes from him but it is useless once he stands in front of you.

You could feel one of his hands reaching up to cup your face, tilting it towards his, making you look up into his eyes. The way his brown gentle eyes look into yours make you feel all hot over again. You would get lost into them forever if you could.

“It’s okay to stare, I’m all yours now.” He whispers with a small teasing smile. “You’re so beautiful.” He says as he caresses your face with fondness.

You feel yourself blush at his words, you lick your lips before clearing your throat. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You say with a shy smile.

He chuckles softly as he reciprocates your smile. His eyes continue to gaze into yours before his eyes move to your lips.

Your eyes widen slightly as your eyes catch his. “I think you’re beautiful too, the most handsome man that I’ve ever seen…” you whisper shyly. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his thumb trace your lips softly.

“Do I make you nervous, my love?” He asks teasingly as he leans his head down. He brushes his nose against yours gently before he grabs your face in both of his hands.

“I-I guess you do.” You answer softly.

“Why is that?” Anthony leans closer to your face. You can feel his breath on your lips, his nose touching yours once again.

You can feel your heart beating like crazy, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if he can hear your loud heartbeat as well. Your mouth feels extremely dry still you tried to swallow “It’s because,” your eyes shift from his eyes to his lips constantly “I-it’s our first night together…”

And with less hesitation and more neediness than you were expecting, Anthony’s lips are on yours. Your bottom lip slots between his while his hand moves to your jaw where he brushes his thumb against it delicately.

All your thoughts overwhelm your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what is going on. Eventually you lean closer against him and you move your hands around his shoulders as you kiss him back.

Anthony sucks lightly on your lips and then he slowly pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek. His lips travel all over your face and neck. You whimper as his mouth presses kisses all over your neck, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging lightly.

“I have been thinking about this moment for so long.” He rasps, kissing your throat softly. Your body trembles against his as he continues to cover your face and neck with kisses.

Your brain is all over the place, eyes heavy and clouded as you try to tell him how much you’ve been wanting him. “I have as well.” You finally whisper.

“How long have you wanted this?” Anthony whispers against your skin.

He groans and stops kissing you when you don’t reply to his question yet. Anthony stares at you, waiting for you to reply. Not realising your eyes were closed, you slowly open your eyes, looking straight into his eyes.

You swallow dry at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushes to your cheeks as you decide to tell him the actual truth, too anxious to even try and lie to your husband when he is looking at you like that. Like he’s about to devour you.

“Four years?” you answer, hesitant eyes jumping between his. “Ever since you told me about pleasure in the first place—”

Anthony groans and almost jumps at your lips. Kissing you full of passion, with everything that he can offer. You feel his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wants you open your mouth slightly for him. He slips his tongue past your parted lips and swirls it around yours.

You take all of his passion in, the warmth of his body, him being so close to you. The feel of his rough yet soft hands holding you close to his. You feel so lightheaded as he continues to kiss you.

After some time he slowly pulls away, finally giving you the chance to breathe in some air. Your whole body feels even more hot after the kiss, leaving you needy for his touch once again. You open your eyes as you take him in. His hair is a bit dishevelled from the way your hands were playing and tugging at it. He licks his lips as he gazes into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers as his eyes travel all over your body. You feel breathless as he continues to look at you, looking at you with so much love and you suppose desire.

He slowly moves to sit next to you, he pats his thigh as he looks at you with a small smile. You blush furiously and your body trembles more as you move your body to sit on his lap. You wrap your legs around him and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, pecking his neck softly, too shy to look at him. Your heartbeat is beating so fast and your head is swimming. He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you, one hand comes to cradle your head as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I would have never thought you'd be this shy.” He says teasingly and you continue to nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck at his words.

He lifts your head with one of his hands and your eyes catch his, his lips finding yours in a deep kiss; not wasting any time with slipping his tongue past your lips. The atmosphere in the room changes within seconds. Anthony is wrapped around you completely, a hand coming to cup one of your breasts, the other holding your ass. You never wanted and desired someone more.

A string of moans are slipping past your lips as Anthony drops his head down to press open mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck. Your hands rest on his stomach against his buttoned shirt, his abs warm underneath your palms. You could feel him grow underneath you, making you whimper against him.

“Anthony—” you gasp after he licks the place he sucked a mark onto your neck.

He moves his head away from your neck, quickly leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a gentle but deep kiss. “Your lips are so heavenly,” he murmurs against your lips.

Your head is clouded with lust and you feel so much love for him. Your brain is quite literally mush and you can’t seem to hear what he says to you.

“Huh?” You whisper dreamily.

Anthony chuckles lightly as he takes in your state.

“I asked,” he whispers as he leans his head back down to your ear, “if I could undress you.”

It takes your brain a moment to wrap around what he’s asking, right now, to you, and when it sinks in you feel yourself heat up even more.

You want him so badly and you’re extremely turned on but you would be lying if you weren’t nervous right now. Everything seems even more real when he asks you that question. Considering that you’re a virgin, you’re very inexperienced and it makes you a bit anxious. You want to be the best lover for him.

Anthony quickly senses your discomfort and pulls his head away from your neck, only to look at you.

You’re biting your lip as you try to look away from his intense but gentle stare. His hands come to cup your cheeks, turning your face towards his once again.

“Princess,” he whispers as he looks at you with so much love and patience. “I know this will be your first time and I promise I’ll be gentle with you. I want to take my time with you tonight and I want to make you feel good.” He says as he holds your face in his hands. Anthony’s fingers caress your cheeks and you slowly close your eyes as you enjoy his touch.

You open your eyes again to look at his eyes. His eyes were filled with lust a couple of minutes ago but now you could see more than that. Love. It makes your heart feel warm as you gaze into his eyes.

You bite your lip nervously once again and you see his eyes move to your lips. You sigh contemplating whether you should tell him about your insecurities or not. Deciding to be honest with him, you speak up finally. “I want this, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I love and need you. I just…” you sigh as you look down at your hands, “I want to be a good lover to you.”

Anthony looks at you with so much warmth and care that it makes your insides melt. He smiles as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise, you’ll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect to me, you’ll always be good enough in every way.”

A soft smile grows on your face at his words and you lean up to kiss him gently. “Okay,” you whisper against his lips.

“Okay… what?” He questions with a playful smile. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you to undress me.” You whisper against his lips with a smile as you look deep into his eyes, “I want you.” Seconds later his lips press against yours.

The kiss is like velvet against yours, and there’s still no hurry when he tilts his head a millimeter to fit against you better. His lips are so soft, swollen from all the kisses you’ve shared. All your previous nerves slowly go away as Anthony kisses you so full with love. His mouth moves, delicate and slow. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world.

All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.

The whine that comes out of you only drives Anthony to seek out more of those sounds, they are potentially the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an attempt to bring him closer to you. Your hips accidentally move against him making him groan against your lips at the action.

Anthony peels his lips off yours, about to say something, when you launch forward, chasing his lips. He groans softly and moves his hand around to hold your face in his hands. He’s trying to pull away, determined to say what he needs to say, but everytime he does he goes back in, like his lips can’t be away from yours for more than a second. After leaving a few short kisses, he pulls back fully, eyes glazed over and lips a little swollen. You’re both taking your time to catch your breaths as you both stare into each other’s eyes.

You try to catch your breath, and when your lips part and you inhale and taste him and only him and nothing but him and the oxygen refilling your lungs. Everything about it makes you drowsy, something sweeps across your bottom lip and your breath turns into a gasp. His tongue wraps itself against yours, hot and slick as he tastes you deeply and what had been a gasp is now a loud embarrassing moan.

The way he kisses you, you are convinced that he’s the best kisser ever. His kisses are so sensual, so passionate and so full of love.

“Lord, I need you so bad baby” he groans against your lips. You shudder against him and feel the sensation pool down low between your thighs. You know your underwear is ruined by now. You’re so wet and turned on. He’ll always be the only one able to do this to you.

“M-more, please please,” you whine against him.

“You know when you beg like this I can’t say no to you, my love.” He says with a big grin.

Fingertips find the hem of your nightgown and you lean back a bit. You raise your arms quickly to help him get rid of your white lacy nightgown.

You don’t know what to do with your hands at all. They’re trembling like crazy, and your core is, too, as he drops the piece of fabric to the floor and leans down to start kissing along the crook of your neck.

His large hands find the curve of your waist where it meets your hips and clutches to it, holding you tight as he works his way with kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts.

You can feel your heartbeat picking up as his hands reach for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips move to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re so… beautiful” He whispers into your ear.

Immediately, you feel a chill go down your spine, the warm sensation pool down low and more wetness forming between your thighs.

You feel his tongue licking up a stripe of your neck, your eyes are fluttering shut and you tremble against him as a moan escapes your lips. You feel him pull away and you open your eyes slowly seeing him look at you as if he’s trying to hold himself back from jumping you.

His eyes wander all over your chest, you’re bare from the waist up and you can’t help but feel so desired as he looks at you. Feeling your cheeks heat up as he licks his lips as he stares you up and down.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. Anthony breathes in through his nose, you blush harder at that comment and shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “God. You’re so gorgeous. I can’t get enough of you. Your very being consumes me.”

That’s all you’re given before he wraps her lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks passionately.

“My lord” you whimper, nails grabbing at his white shirt or something to cling to, and you feel the warm vibrations of a chuckle against your flesh. His tongue begins licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand goes up to squeeze your other breast.

You whine as your core starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention. Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. His lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as you try to catch your breath. You’re panting, barely able to think straight as he pushes your hair back and kisses the corner of your lips lovingly.

His lips come to kiss your lips deeply once again. He both rolls you over so that you’re underneath him instead. So lost in the kiss already, you moan as you enjoy his touch on your hips.

“Ah!” You gasp as you feel his head lean down to lick and suck your neck while one of his hands comes to squeeze one of your breasts. You feel yourself aching, the feeling in between your legs feels almost unbearable as you could feel yourself dripping against your underwear.

“So beautiful…” he murmurs as he kisses your chest.

The tone of his voice makes your body feel like it’s blazing—like the fire of a warm fireplace on a cold winter night. It burns, but it warms every single inch of you from the inside out.

“It’s unfair,” you whine as he continues to kiss you.

“What is?” He whispers as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, coaxing a loud moan out of you.

“T-that I’m almost naked and you aren’t…” you whisper as he brings his head up to look at you.

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss your forehead lovingly. “My wife wants to see me naked?” He teases as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Anthony!” You gasp before he leans down to kiss your bare shoulder. “That’s improper!”

“What?” He laughs at your reaction. He shakes his head as he continues to stare at you. “Everything we have done up until now tonight hasn’t been proper.” He whispers as he leans up to brush his nose against yours.

“I’ll ask again, do you want to see me naked?” He smiles as he looks at you.

You pout as your cheeks heat up at his question. “Why do I have to say it? Obviously I want to see you.”

Anthony chuckles before leaning down to peck your lips again. “Wasn’t so hard was it?”

You huff playfully before his hands come to grab yours, moving them towards his chest.

Your hands slip onto his bare chest, pushing the sleeves of his shirt off. His skin is hot, and so firm. He feels like a dream. You feel like you could wake up any moment, as if all of this is a dream. He helps you unbutton his shirt as he stares down at you. It comes off easily and you gape at the artwork that is his chest.

“Oh lord…” you gasp.

He smiles softly as he lets you admire him, enjoying your shameless gaze.

“All of this is for you,” he murmurs gently “and it’ll always be only for you.” He whispers as he takes one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the action, making you blush even more. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. You love him so much. His mouth is like heaven to you. You’re convinced this is a dream still. He’s everything you could ever ask for. The kiss gets more heated the more you kiss each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at his strands softly making him moan into your mouth.

The feel of his desire pressed against your heated skin is heavenly, and you roll your hips up into his to feel some friction against your core. You moan softly against his lips as you rub yourself against him.

He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whine as he pushes your hips gently against the mattress, so desperate to feel him again.

You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing, and his hand moves down to your heat, into your underwear. His mouth falls from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your parted lips.

It's very, very wet; more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.

There’s a smile on Anthony’s face as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation.

"You're so wet for me, kitten. I absolutely love it." You whimper at the nickname he gave you and you buck your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He notices and slips a second finger in, his pace speeding up with the addition. Your hands clutch the off-white bed sheets as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him both curl them and spread them.

You gasp, his lips make their way to yours, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it love? You like it when I touch you like this?" Anthony groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.

"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes please. yes," you moan loudly.

“Good,” he says, a smug smirk playing on his face. It’s incredible how easy it is for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.

Anthony leans down to trap your lips in another deep kiss. You can feel him smile against your lips as you whimper against his mouth.

You feel your legs spread even more open for him at the feeling of his finger pleasuring you. His tongue slips into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. You can’t help but moan and whine as he continues to pleasure you. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“God, I want you so bad.” He groans as his hand shifts, thumb settling against your clit to work it smoothly, and he thrusts another finger inside you slowly, curling his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake.

“You have me, always.” You whimper as your body trembles underneath him. So overwhelmed with the arousal and emotions you’re feeling right now.

His eyes are burning holes into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastens his motions inside you, you moan out again and squeeze your eyes shut. That burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen making your back arch beautifully.

“Open your eyes for me my love, please look at me.”

You open your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze is what it takes to make the dam break. The hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving on their own against his hand.

“You’re doing so well for me baby girl,” He says as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

As you feel your consciousness finally come back to you, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. He slowly and gently pulls your underwear off your body leaving you completely bare for him. His eyes can’t seem to stay in one place as he admires how beautiful you are.

Standing up he slowly makes work of the rest of his clothing, leaving him naked in front of you. Your eyes widen as you take him in. You can’t help but wonder if he is going to be able to fit inside you. He’s huge. A chill goes down your spine as he licks his lips while he looks at you. He’s so handsome, his body is truly beautiful.

He slowly moves towards the bed and gently spreads your thighs apart as he fits himself between them. He positions his body against yours, you feel his hand come up to your face to caress your cheek again as you feel one of his hands wander all over your body making you breathless already.

You feel his member momentarily against your wetness which makes you thrust against him.

He pushes your back up against the bed, pressing himself flush against your body. He brings his lips down against your own once again, stealing your breath and making you whine needily in his mouth. He groans in response, his hands slowly drifting down from your waist towards your hips.

“I need you,” you pant against his lips, but Anthony pulls his hips away slightly with a small smirk on his face. “Please…”

You need him so bad. You feel him press kisses all over your face, he starts pressing tender kisses everywhere on your face and body. Panting you feel him slowly go down your body. He momentarily wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and sucks lightly making you arch your body against his. You feel him caress your arms softly, comforting you. Eventually you feel his lips move lower down your body. Littering your body full of love and affection.

You feel yourself dripping down the sheets, whining helplessly. You need him so bad.

He travels all the way down until he is face to face with your heat. Anthony gently spreads your legs further apart for him with his strong hands. You can see his arousal showing in his eyes. Licking his lips he leans down to press a kiss on one of your thighs, so close to where you need him the most.

A loud broken moan leaves your lips as his lips finally meet your wet heat. He dives between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet tongue and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. You feel your body trembling and you try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips.

Strong arms are locked around your thighs, he secures your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

You can feel Anthony chuckle against your heat making you feel even more hot all over. His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises come out from your throat. You’re squirming and he just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than this right now, eating you out on your shared bed, and it’s so good you can barely even figure out what he’s doing with his tongue.

Anthony moans into you, the vibrations full and hot, and you splutter.

“A-ah t-this is too much” you squeak, your voice sounds strangled and full of desperation. You’re so close to the edge “I c-can’t this is too-too much.”

“Easy my love,” he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your right thigh. Your whole body is trembling from the new sensations he just gave you.

“My lord” you mumble softly.

“It’s okay Y/N, I know, I’ve got you” he coos again, teasing. “It’s a lot. Will you let me continue?”

“Y-yeah, just uh wait a second” you whine.

“Alright.”

But after a couple of seconds waiting it feels too much. It feels like hours are passing by. You’re already tired of waiting and he is, too. When he leans down to dip his tongue between your folds once again.

You sigh at the same time he does, except yours is high-pitched and his sounds so dreamy. Anthony is lapping at you with determination, taking care not to be too rough or too fast this time and push you over the edge only when you’re ready for it.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, trembling digits sinking into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, trying to silence yourself. “My-my-my gooooohd…”

“I know” he mumbles, his lips sealing around your clit and you almost jump out of your skin at the action. “God- you taste good. You feel so good. You’re everything.”

You’re a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut to the point of tears, his arms press into your hip bones to pin you in place as you buck into him again, trying to get closer to that feeling of his tongue lapping on your clit and urging him to do more.

“Ah Anthony baby, oh my goooood” you cry out loud. You’re sure the rest of the people in the house have heard you by now. He sucks lazily at your clit while he moves to curl his fingers into you. Anthony eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You keep crying out his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

You are so so close. Suddenly you feel his fingers retreat from your core and you whine at the loss of his fingers. This makes Anthony chuckle. He leans down again. Slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You feel so dizzy from his ministrations. Moaning and whining, you writhe underneath him. “Fuck, Anthonyyyy.” You whimper when he begins thrusting his tongue in and out of you just as his fingers had been doing moments before, hips bucking uncontrollably into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name. You were this close to coming on his face, but your body needed one more little push.

“Come on, kitten, come for me.”

You gasp loudly as you feel your whole body trembling even more and then you feel your body tense as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.

You feel Anthony still licking up your wet heat, his mouth is heavenly. He’s now licking every last remaining wetness coming out of your entrance, moaning at the taste.

You whimper because you feel so overstimulated. You tug at his hair softly trying to signal him that you can’t take it anymore for now.

“Such a good angel,” he whispers as he retreats his mouth from your heat and he wipes your juices off his mouth with a small smile while looking at you “You did so well my love.”

Anthony presses a kiss on your hip bone, then slowly moves his body, finally facing you. You’re still trying to catch your breath, trying to keep your eyes open. He smiles down at you with so much adoration, it makes your insides melt.

He leans down to press kisses down your neck to your shoulders making you giggle as he litters your body full of kisses.

“Make love to me, Anthony,” you sigh, and he groans against your neck. He pulls back just enough to look at you, stroking your hair back from your face as his eyes look deeply into yours.

He surges forward and kisses you so passionately, taking your breath away. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. Anthony groans low, as your fingernails rake against his scalp. You melt into him as his arms hug you closer to him. You moan against his lips as you feel him massage your back and neck just slightly. This gave him the opportunity to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip, slipping it inside your mouth.

You let out more moans and whines against his lips as you both dance your tongues against one another. You whine as he pulls away smiling at you with a tender look in his eyes.

“You know I love you right?” He says as one of his hands reaches to rest against your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You feel yourself melt instantly as you look into his eyes and his soft touch.

“Of course I do, I love you too, so much.” You whisper and smile shyly as you lean up to him and you both meet in a soft kiss. The two of you kiss languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.

It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, fuck” Anthony rasps, and it’s because he’s reaching down and grasping himself to line up between your lips and slide. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You’re still so so wet. Anthony swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kisses you full of fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his. You writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“Are you ready my dearest? Let me know if I start to hurt you or if you want to stop.” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes.

You bite your lip and nod, too shy and excited to talk.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.

“P-please, Anthony,” you stutter, your body trembling even more “p-put it in, please?”

He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine loudly out of frustration.

The moment you want to beg him again to put it in he leans down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs tremble underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Anthony slides in so slowly it’s agonizing. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

Once he’s fully inside you, you sigh against his lips. You feel so full, as if he is made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reaches up to your face.

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Y-yeah, I just need a moment.” You murmur.

“Anything for you, my love.” He smiles as your eyes are drifting close.

You feel yourself gradually adjust to his size and you bite your lip as you open your eyes again to look up at your handsome husband on top of you.

“P-please move.” You beg.

He nods quietly and starts by fucking you slow and deep, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds your hand tightly. The sting hurts you for a while, but it easily changes to a more pleasurable feeling as he moves against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he’s giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“So tight…” he groans.

The angle is so good, but when his pace picks up he finally leans down to wrap his arms around you, that it makes you gasp and you grab the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.

“You’re taking me so well, kitten. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.”

You whimper as his lips, move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss.

At a certain point you feel the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head from the pleasure he’s giving you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escapes your throat, a strange cry of his name.

“M-mmhmm fuck! Anthonyyyyy—!”

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “F-fuck you’re so loud for me princess, are you close?”

“Oh my” you moan, hot tears filling the corners of your eyes in pleasure, “I aaaaaam… I t-think so o-oh, fuck please!”

“Look at you, so desperate to come…”

The air is stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Another precise thrust has you whimpering, wrapping your legs around his hips, pushing him closer.

His mouth covers your own to swallow your mewls, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. His lips slide away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tries to suck in air again, and everything is too much. It’s just too much for you to handle.

He’s quickening his pace, hips snapping to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it kitten?” His hands can’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moan at the feeling of his speed, your third orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrap around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap any second now.

“Always, so beautiful,” he whispers, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, god, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you whine as you think about him filling you up and you tighten your walls around him once again. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up Anthony… please.”

Those are the golden words he needed to hear, groaning he buries his face into your neck as he fucks into you, making the whole bed rattle, the wooden headboard slamming into the wall.

“Fuuuffuuucck… I’m g-gonna… I-I’m g-gon…na… A-Anthony-y… I-I love you I love you I nneeeeddd yyouhhh h n-nnno I wwaaant mooorrre, I-I’m gonna–”

“Cum for me, pretty. I got you. Show me that I’m the only one who can make you cum like this. Cum all over me, princess.”

You come with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you hold his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. This orgasm felt more intense than the others, you’re feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re feeling. Anthony groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Ah fuck—“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Are you gonna take my cum like a good wife? Let me fill you up until my love is messy, hm?”

You nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. “Please… please put a baby inside me.”

He groans loudly at your words, he’s a stuttering mess and his hips are jerking wildly without his permission and he’s cumming inside of you deeply. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within you. He looks so beautiful coming undone on top of you.

You’re both trying to catch your breaths as he leans his forehead against yours. Eventually you feel him slowly roll off of you and he lays down next to you while he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You turn to your side towards him as he pulls you against him, his body hot and slick from sweat.

“I love you so much,” he says, his voice low, with a huge smile on his face.

“I love you too,” you say as you blush at how intensely he looks at you. You’re giggling softly as he wraps his arms around you, holding you impossibly closer to his body.

“You’re everything to me… so perfect.” He whispers as he leans his lips down to yours to kiss you gently.

“You’re everything to me too…” you say against his lips with a smile.

The both of you soon continue to make conversation as you hold onto each other. Laughing and talking until you’re too tired to stay up anymore. The night is filled with touches, kisses and so much love.

——

When you wake up, it’s the morning, light slips through the partially open blinds and warms the room. You feel all hot, Anthony’s body wrapping around you from behind, spooning you, holding you close to him. Your legs are tangled together, and both of you are still naked, laying under the covers.

You feel him nuzzle against you, melting against him, still feeling so hot. Barely awake, you whine as you try to kick the thick cover off of your bare body and you sigh into your pillow. After a few more minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get back to sleep, your eyes slid open only to end up squinting at the offending sunlight.

You close your eyes again and yawn, stretching your limbs and a smile plays on your face once you’re done. At your movements, your husband moves closer, groaning and wrapping his arms around you, tugging you even closer to him until your back is pressed up against his warm chest. You could feel his breath on your neck, soft and slow. His morning wood pressing against your ass and you feel your cheeks heat up at the feeling. Rolling over, you’re met with Anthony’s sleepy face. You smile once again as you take in his soft and peaceful face, you bring one of your hands to trace his lips with your fingertips. Your fingers travel to his messy hair, running your fingers through his hair gently.

Anthony sighs softly before tugging your body closer to his once again. Your eyes start to drift shut again, sleep overtaking you slowly. You feel so content, being able to hold and just enjoy the morning with the love of your life. But before you can fall asleep once again, you feel his lips on your neck.

“Hmmm,” you mumble, still very sleepy. “What are you doing?” You giggle and try to wiggle away from him. His grip tightens around your waist, tugging you closer to his body once again.

Nuzzling his face against your neck, he responds, “You’re so warm and so beautiful...” He says as his fingers trace your back so gently and his fingertips feel so soft against your skin.

You giggle as he continues to kiss your neck, before you know it he reaches back to take the covers and pull them over your bodies. Cuddling you once again while holding your naked body against his.

“Anthony...” Your whines slowly turn into soft moans as he continues to kiss your neck. He’s switching between soft small chaste kisses to wet and deep kisses that you know will leave marks on your skin.

His kisses travel to your jaw, nipping at it gently making you a whimpering mess. He is so warm against you, cocooning you in his arms and making you melt against his touch. You feel more wetness pool down low between your thighs the more he touches and kisses you. Rubbing your legs against each other, to get some friction, you hear Anthony chuckle before one of his hands comes between your thighs, pushing your legs apart for him.

“I can smell how wet you are…” He whispers against your skin making you whine against him.

His mouth moves slowly towards your lips, engulfing your mouth in a deep and slow kiss. Anthony always kisses you like he has all the time in the world. His fingers move from your waist to your upper back, and his skin is so hot and wet against yours and to make things even worse his hands move once again to cup your face gently in his hands, deepening the kiss once again.

You wrap your arms around him as you hold him closer to your body. You feel his dick, so hard against your heat, throbbing against you. Bringing your leg up, you wrap it around his hip, grinding your wetness against him. He groans as he feels your dripping core against him.

“Please… Anthony… I need you.” You whisper against his lips. His fingers tighten against your hips as he grunts at your words. He removes his lips from yours, moving his mouth to your ear.

“How do you want me?” He whispers into your ear, his voice deep. Your body shudders at his words and you whine as you continue to grind against him.

“I-I want you to take me.” You stutter shyly.

“How do you want me to take you?” He groans as his dick slips between your folds. “I have some ideas…”

Your cheeks heat up as he rolls you onto your stomach. He moves himself behind you, pulling your hips up, ass in the air for him. He stares at your wet heat, clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. Your body trembles with anticipation. You’re dripping, so soaked for him.

Seconds later you feel his cock rubbing up and down your slit. You grip the sheets as he circles the tip around your entrance and you whimper as you buck your hips against him, wanting him to fill you up.

He grips your hips, holding you so you don’t make any movements any more. “Bad kitten… so impatient.” Anthony groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

“I want you so bad…” you whine, your cheeks heat up at your new favourite pet name he has for you. “D-daddy please… fill me up. Make love to me, I want your babies…”

He growls at the word and you’re glad that pulled a reaction out of him. He continues to circle his tip around your entrance, pulling more desperate whimpers from your lips. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

A broken gasp leaves your lips as he finally slides the tip inside you. He gradually slides more of his thickness inside you and you tremble more underneath him. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Fuck kitty,” he groans breathlessly, as his hands trace your body gently. “You’re taking me so well, we’re almost there.”

He thrusts the last parts of himself inside you, filling you up to the brim, you moan as he halts his movements, finally inside you all the way. “Fuck, angel, you look so beautiful like this, so small, taking me all the way underneath me.” He can’t control the words that leave his lips as his hips move, quickly pulling himself out of you making you whine at the empty feeling. “My wife… such a needy kitten.” He groans before he thrusts himself all the way inside your pussy again.

“A-Ah daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moves his hips slowly against you. You cry out as he thrusts so deep inside you that it has your body slumping against the bed. His hands come to move to squeeze the flesh of your ass while he continues to move against you.

You moan loudly, arching your back and pressing your ass up against him, and he grabs your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he starts rolling his hips deeply into you. The noises that are spilling off your lips drive him insane, his dick throbbing inside you as you start to tighten around him. He’s so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Does my wife love being filled like this?” He moans as he leans down to press kisses against your shoulders.

Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he is making you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Anthony picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, whining you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head once again as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood my lord, p-please more… harder please”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder and louder as well as the sounds of your pussy that keep meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with your desperate whimpers. “Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my seed.”

“God, fuck Anthony, daddy fuck p-pleaaaase I—”

You whine as your eyes roll back inside your head.

“What do you want, kitten?” He groans while one of his hands reach around you to slip against your clit making you writhe against him as he applies pressure. The pleasure has the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.

“Oh, o-oh m-my… please sir, h-harder, faster p-p-pleaaseee.” You squeak out in between moans. The wet noises of him easing into you over and over has your cheeks burning, realising just how wet and needy you are for him.

He growls, gripping your hips tighter as he picks up his pace once more. Your skin is all sweaty and hot. You try to catch your breath but from how Anthony is trusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it feels almost impossible to do so.

“Does that feel good princess?” He asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes! I-it feels sooooo gooood, Anthonyyyy—” you whine as he continues to hit your sensitive spots inside you. His fingers press down on your little button making you squirm. The tension continues to build up as the pleasure is becoming too overwhelming. You are crying out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name, and he moves his head down once again and licks your neck.

Anthony snaps his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. Feeling like your head is swimming once again, you whine. “I’m so close, my love, please…” you beg desperately. You only need one more little push, a little bit more attention to reach your peak.

“Come for me kitten…” he whispers against your ear. “Cum around me… let me put my heir inside you.”

His hips never slow down as he massages your clit. The coil finally snaps, pleasure erupts in waves as heat overflows your body as you arch your back. You can’t stop yourself from shaking as you come against him. You almost black out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You feel yourself gushing against him, you moan as the overstimulation is getting to you.

“Fuck!” He grunts as he looks at you and feels you squirting all over him. “I wanna fill you up, my love.” His pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line. “Going to fuck a baby into you, angel. Get you nice and full…”

Your walls pulse and become tighter around him as he continues to hit your cervix. He groans as his movements become more sloppy. Loud whimpers leave your lips as he finally spills his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you.

Anthony sighs as he finally feels his climax subside. His cock finishes its weak pulses, and he gently pulls out of your spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and he watches his seed drool out of you. Your pussy continues to clench repeatedly and he feels himself harden again at the sight. He wants to take you again but he knows he needs you to recover first.

“Hmmm, I think your little cunt needs to look like this every single day, don’t you?” He whispers with a smile.

You’re still trying to catch your breath as you whine every now and then. He moves off the bed, making his way to the bathroom to get a warm, wet cloth and returns to your legs to clean you carefully. Once he’s done he comes back into bed, wrapping his arms around you instantly.

“You did so well my love,” he whispers as he places soft kisses against your temples. Your cheeks burn at his sweet words. He leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. Kissing each other languidly for a while before you feel him trace your thighs with his fingers. You pull away and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“What?” He chuckles, playing coy and tries not to laugh as you shake your head with amusement.

“I know you want more… I can practically feel how hard you are against me.”

He hums at your words with a smile as his lips move against yours again. “I’ll always want you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his words. “Me too…” you whisper shyly.

“I’ve been very nice, very good to you. Maybe you would love to squirt all over me again?” He smiles at you deviously as you gasp, giving him a playful push.

“Anthony!” You squeal before he holds your body close to his, swallowing your noises as he kisses you deeply. Both of your laughs turn into breathy moans as you both continue to touch each other.

As he kisses and touches you again and again, you settle in for a long day, as Anthony intends on wearing you out.

#anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #my writing

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uncouth-the-fifth · 2 months

Text

good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy/reader #resident evil #resident evil four #re4 remake #leon kennedy drabble #uncouthre

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moneymartin · 28 days

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PLEASE PLEASE do a kate martin fic where the reader is her ex and they cannot stay away from each other. like “uh oh” by tate mcrae PLEASE

・❥・- favorite bad decision

summary: you see kate at a practice after the two of you split

warnings: nfsw mdni. 18+ as fawk! but the smut is kinda short sozzzz

rpf. don’t read it if you don’t feel comfortable

a/n: i’m negl all my kate fics are fluffy cause i cannot see myself writing smut. (but i try to deliver so this sucks cuz i got a lil uncomfy) 😭 also i’m sorry for lacking on my writing im so stressed w all these exams im taking and some family problems. this also might go off track cause i wrote this half asleep 😕 didn’t know how to end this one too

stars are the skips :)

it’s been 5 months. 5 stupid months since that relationship you refused to let go ended. you couldn’t believe it either when your girlfriend suddenly said “we need to breakup.”. she never told you why, despite the multiple calls and texts you sent when she left the morning after that were begging for her to come back or at least explain why she felt that way.

you felt like absolute shit.

it was a long relationship, your longest one too. it was the fact you believed it would last forever. you wished for it to last when you saw those repeated numbers and whenever a star dotted across the sky. you believed in those silly little things, but you only believed in them for this stupid 1.5 year period.

everything felt like it had been going your way during those times. you felt alive again after meeting kate. she was the definition of a literal ball of sunshine when it came to you. constantly bringing you to her basketball games, showing you off to her friends and teammates, introducing you to her family. things were great. the feeling was refreshing, especially after being in probably the worst relationship of your life.

a guy played you behind your back so many times and you were unable to figure out yourself. the second you did, you didn’t even know why or what to do. you struggled with school from the thought of never finding out what he thought was weird about you or why he even considered doing that in the first place. you treated him like he was the best boyfriend in the world!

then kate had dug you out of a hole you thought you’d never have the guts or the fucking courage to get out of.

“there’s nothing wrong with you trying to get your mind off of it y’know.” jada says. shes been helping you cope with this thing even though her and kate are the closest people ever. she’d never tell a single soul anything you always talk to her about. “coming to our last game in carver won’t be that bad!”

“yeah, not so bad until i see kate! you know how i feel about her, jades. it hurts.” you murmur and swipe the back of your hand against your face. there’s a painful feeling at the bottom of your stomach and it makes your skin crawl uncomfortably. “i’m not going and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

jada’s face contorts into a half smile when she hears the way you talk about the whole shebang. she knows you that still can’t let it go, and she wishes so badly that you could let kate go. “right.” she breathes out and grinds her teeth together. “you don’t need to come.”

but you do anyways.

you sat there at court side awkwardly, watching the hawkeyes train before their final home game. you only saw caitlin, hannah, gabbie, syd, and kylie. jada was sitting next to you and cheering on her teammates. thankfully, you didn’t spot kate anywhere close or on the court at all.

until you fucking did.

kate walked in through the tunnel and dropped her gym bag on the floor, a loud thud echoing through the arena. she had her hair up in that same stupid braid, that same stupid smirk on her face, and that same stupid look in her eyes. you hated her so fucking much and you hated the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about her no matter how hard you tried to.

that churn in the stomach made you feel like you had level 1000 cramps, but it was just that feeling you got when you felt absolutely sick to the core. sick because you didn’t know what, or how to feel after seeing kate again. it was the shitty feeling of not knowing why she even chose to leave you in the first place. it was the feeling of frustration when you saw her smile again. the feeling of confusion rushing back to you. you felt like a small child getting yelled at when she broke up with you, it was when nothing made sense at all to you. when you didn’t get the answer you wanted after multiple tries of begging for it.

you didn’t understand it, and you still don’t.

“you alright?” jada snaps you out of whatever the hell you were thinking about and you jump slightly, eyes diverting away from kate. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” you huff and smile with your teeth out. your body starts to grow numb and you feel as if you can’t breathe as well as you normally would, which jada notices. she grabs your shoulders tightly and places her palm on the side of your face to move your head towards hers. she knows you’re staring at kate. “you’re not fine.”

thanks captain obvious.

“yeah, obviously not!!!” you blurt out way too loud. it makes everything and everyone around you stop. the sound of the balls dribbling against the floor and the continuous chatter around you just stops. everything is silent and you know that its because of you. your face flushes at the embarrassment you feel and you step off onto the court, walking towards the exit. the sound of footsteps follow you and you don’t even have the guts to turn around. it seriously feels like you’re about to get completely flamed for acting out at a clear statement about what you felt.

but it’s not jada. or caitlin. it’s fucking kate.

a wave of anger and bitterness rushes through you like no other, and you can’t tell whether to be upset or nervous about this little interaction. you still love kate and you know that. “you like to yell, huh?” she chuckles and pushes your shoulder lightly. when her hand touches you, you don’t move away and just let her do it.

“lighten up, will ya?” kate’s lips curl up into the damn smirk again and she looks at you with those eyes. the eyes that she knows you can’t say no to, the eyes that got you hooked in the first place. “i missed when you acted up like that, to be honest.”

you’ve missed her touch so badly, but you just can’t admit it.

there’s a lot of things you acknowledge in life. things that you know. you know whats right and wrong when it comes to decisions and when it comes to certain things like seeing people you know you aren’t supposed to.

but you know that this is right. it always has been.

promises are always broken too, and this was one you swore you’d never break. it was hard, especially because kate was the hottest fucking person on the planet. saying ‘no’ to her was practically impossible. she asked you to come over after the game and you happily complied. which was a horrible idea.

“you’re such a fuckin’… asshole.” you whine out and let out a bated breath. your body shivers when kate’s fingers run up and down underneath your shirt and when her breath hits your sopping core. she’s in between your legs and eating you out like a madwoman. your head falls back into her pillows, fingers gripping tight at the roots of her hair and the bedsheets on the side of your body. “am i?” she mumbles, sending vibrations through your body that you haven’t felt in months.

that feeling is so good. and you know it. you missed it when kate acted up too. seeing her all tough on the court made something reignite in your stomach again, and it exploded when you saw her in the locker rooms. you literally dragged her out of there while she was in the middle of a conversation with addi and into your car. you couldn’t even wait before your lips were eagerly on hers and her hands were roaming in all the right places.

“yeah, you are. you fucking bitch…..” your voice goes up an octave the moment kate licks a stripe up your pussy and starts leaving hickeys around your thighs and stomach. “i tried ignoring you when i saw you at the club last week. all i wanted to do was jump into your arms and kiss your face off.” you admit awkwardly and let out a quiet cry the moment your stomach turns into knots. you’re close and she can feel it, her head diving down again while you absentmindedly hump at her face.

“shit!” you whimper and prop your head up, watching kate lap up every last drop of your cum. “i got you, baby,” she breathes out heavily onto your stomach. her breath is warm and she presses her cheek up against it when she feels your legs shake. her thumb rubs your sides and she looks up at you, rising up slightly and keeping herself steady with her hands. yours grabbing at her shoulders. when she keeps herself up you can feel her arms bulging underneath her shirt and she leans in. “mmf.. that’s my girl.”

her tongue swirls around yours, making you taste yourself all the way before the moment turns over quickly. “mhm..” you hum and slide your hands down her arms to get a feel again. the second you pull away, kate’s eyes go from feral to soft. she leans back and searches around on her floor, picking up your undergarments and sliding them on for you. “it’s okay.” she smiles and moves her head towards you. kate rests her head on your chest, chin in between and her arms around your stomach while your fingers cup her face.

you’re never gonna be able to stop forgiving her if she keeps doing this to you. and you know it.

#mine #kate martin x reader #wcbb x you #wcbb x reader #wbb x reader #wbb x you

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alexwritingspot · 8 months

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hii ! i LOVED your percy x reader sm!! and your writing is BEAUTIFUL !

ik you just posted recently but could you do percy x gn!reader with prompt 9? and possibly make it enemies to lovers? <3

Maybe even enemies can love each others…

prompt 9: “are you flirting with me? Took you long enough to understand it”

A shared punishment imposed by Mr. D, by the side of the great Percy Jackson leads you to finally face all the feeling that you had hid for so long…

A/n: Omg! Thank you so much! 😭😭😭 you have no idea how much this comment means to me, you literally made my day 🧡🧡 I’m not an English native speaker, so I’m always doubting about both my writing and my language skills, so having a compliment like this is just very appreciated! As always the prompt list is on my page. words count: 800

warnings: maybe cursing? Other than that none

——————————————————————————————————

It wasn’t like you totally hated Percy Jackson. He saved your life more than once and was after all a nice guy. But he got under your skin, a whole lot. You hated how everyone at camp saw him as the perfect guy, the handsome boy with a golden heart who saved Olympus twice and had chosen to refuse immortality to help the camp, heck, even his fatal flaw was a merit! But you hated it because it wasn’t absolutely like that… ok, maybe it was. But you hated how no one pointed out his flaws.

So here you were, forced to a shared punishment with the son of Poseidon because you two had ‘disturbed’ Mr. D’s breakfast with your bickering. You pulled up your sleeves and put on a pair of gloves waiting for the torture to end. You two had to wash the breakfast dishes in the camp’s kitchen and you both were left alone since Mr. D had left.

You watched the water pour from the sink faucet as you held out an hand and waited for Percy to pass you a plate… except he didn’t. When you turned he was juggling with some apples found around. You let out a tired sigh “have you finished messing around or do I have to clean up all of this by myself?” Annoyance dripping from your voice. With a single move he stopped throwing the apples in the air and put them down on a near wooden table “you should enjoy your life more, you know?” He teased, a smirk was playing on his lips and Oh gods, how much you’d like to smack it out of his sneering face! But you couldn’t, so you simply turned your glare back to the sink and said nothing else, you had to bite your tongue to not retort back.

He then came closer to the counter with a pile of dirty dishes in his hands, a light was entering the window and kissing his face almost poetically, his green eyes shining bright… what were you thinking?! You forced yourself to simply take a plate and you started washing it, well aware of his eyes on you. “You’re just gonna stay there all day staring at me or you’ll actually help?” You asked him in a very serious voice, and he laughed, how dared that- “relax, we have plenty of time and if you didn’t notice I’m helping you” he said, clearly amused, you side glared at him “how, exactly?” He put down the pile of plates and took a step nearer “I carried here the dishes” he pointed out, you rolled your eyes, and turned your head once again to give him a warning glance to not make you anger, but you stopped the moment his face came into your vision. Why did he need to have such a pretty face, you wondered. You ended up doing all the dishes alone as he stood there, until finally he spoke “I like your eyes” he said, you turned, confused, he had that same playful light as always “you what?” You ask, looking at him, your face scrunched up in confusion “You heard me” he said smiling, as he got nearer “do you want to play 5 questions?” He asked, you turned fully, your back resting on the counter as you dried your hands, the dishes could have waited

“Wasn’t the game ‘20 question’?” He shook his head “It’s funnier this way, you have to choose the most important ones” He said, your shoulders were touching and, oh boy, you didn’t mind at all “Who starts?” You asked, he went straight to speaking up “what’s your favourite colour?” You laughed a bit at the irony of the question “what about the talk you made about three seconds ago about the fact that this way we had to do important questions?” You mocked him “you didn’t answer” he answered back, ignoring completely your statement “I like green” you shrugged “like my eyes?” He questioned “like your eyes” you confirmed “my turn… do you like someone?” You asked, sure that the answer would have been a positive one, even if strangely the thought made you jealous. “Yes, a certain child of y/g/p, who has a really smart mouth” he looked you in the eyes and you could swore he was looking into the depth of your soul. You stood there, processing the information with your mouth slightly agape. “Are you flirting with me?” You asked, in total disbelief, he took a step closer, placing his hand on your cheek, even if he was warm it made you shiver “took you long enough to understand it” and then he closed the gap between your lips, with the softest kiss someone has ever gave you…

A/n: Hope it reached your standards! Feel free to request anything else! 🧡🧡🧡

#Pjo #Percy Jackson #Pjo x reader #Percy Jackson x reader #x reader #annabeth chase x reader #leo valdez x reader #Piper McLean x reader #jason grace x reader #prompt list

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xxchaosjojoxx · 12 days

Note

Thank you so much 😭😭 I just really need Sanji to hold me tight in his arms, rock me back and forth gently while whispering praise and comforting words. Some of that "You've done so well." And "I've got you, let me take care of you" would be MWUAH yim yum. You don't even have to write this if u don't wanna, I just need more Sanji comfort 😭🙏

I udnerstand you 100%. We all need a Sanjia who will comfort us <3 I hope you don't mind that it is pretty short. Have an amazign day and feel all of my love and hugs

I’m here for you (Sanji x reader)

It was a long day. You helped your boyfriend Sanji with the dishes and cleaned the kitchen afterwards. Even though he hates seeing you touch the dirty dishes with your angelic hands. After that you went shopping with Nami and Robin for the whole afternoon. You even helped repair General Franky with Franky and Usopp. After the end of the day you retreat towards your shared bedroom with Nami and Robin. As soon as you hit the bed your body felt shore and you felt empty and lonely. This day was fun and exciting. You love spending time with your friends. Living your life with such amazing friends that are more family like anything else and having an adorable boyfriend is a dream come true. So why do you feel so down lately?

Sleep didn’t help you at all, you were alone in your shared bedroom and hiding under the blankets the whole morning. No one disturbed you. until you heard a soft knock on your door. You didn't want any company but saying “Leave me alone” was not an option either. Without saying anything you heard the door open, followed by footsteps. You heard that something was laid down on your nightstand but refused to leave your fortress of blankets. A hand was placed on your head and a soothing voice soon followed. “You wanna talk about it, my love?” You crawled back to the surface, looking at the face of your handsome boyfriend. You shrugged your shoulders while looking at your nightstand. Sanji prepared your comfort food and hot cocoa. Sanji took off his shoes and was lying behind you. He snuggled in bed with you, holding you tight in his arms while he rocks you back and forth gently. You turned around so you could cuddle closer into his chest while closing your eyes. Sanji was rubbing your back while whispering towards you. “It’s ok. You’ve done well. I’ve got you now.” You wanted to cry. It was comfortable and you felt safe. You didn’t deserve someone like him. “Hey Y/N. Let me take care of you, kay?” He softly said and planted a kiss on your forehead. You nodded slightly, sniffed a little. He was still rocking you forth and back, praising you for being you. You both fell asleep after a few more minutes. Having someone by your side like that, you didn’t even need words. Even if you feel lonely or just sad, you remember that you have people around you, caring for you and loving you the way you are.

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #fluff #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #op sanji

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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

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js discovered ur blog recently and i am FED. im gobbling up the writings ur brain has created god bless🙏🏻

what do you think of mafia!price reacting to his wife being insecure about her stretch marks from her pregnancy/postpartum?

ive been so worked up over my stretch marks cause ive been gaining weight recently😭😭 btw, its totally cool if u dont wanna do this...

remember to take care of urself ya :3👍❗️❗️🔥🔥🔥

thank you so much!! and oh my god i have THOUGHTS about this. i gained 40ish pounds in the span of a few months and my stretch marks are so deep i can run my fingers over them and FEEL them and it took me a while to learn that it's natural and to accept them as a part of myself, but god is it freeing. anyway. story.

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: body image issues, slight postpartum depression, hurt/comfort, fem!reader

You don't look in mirrors anymore.

Before you had your beautiful bundle of joy, your reflection had never bothered you. Really, there wasn't really anything you felt at all when you looked into one. All a mirror had been was just a tool. Something to guide your hands when styling your hair or to ensure you had cleansed the makeup from your face.

So quickly had that tool become a weapon.

Wretched and cruel, all the mirror seemed to reflect those days was everything you tried to ignore. The stretch of your skin, those atrocious lines that plagued your stomach and thighs; your eyes were magnetized to them every time you looked at yourself. Most of all, it reminded you that the day you gave birth to your daughter, you had become more than just a mother. You became a spectacle.

It's why you started wearing baggy clothes around the house because if you could muddle the shape of your body, maybe you could blur the crevices that shredded your skin. So when your darling husband snuck up behind you while you worked on folding laundry in the bedroom, your immediate instinct was to push him away. Despite how warm his arms felt around you with large, thick hands smoothing over your stomach, you were terrified he'd feel the parts of you that were broken.

"Everything alright, love?" John asked softly at your rejection. His fingertips slowly slipped off of your body but lingered as if he regretted the movement, and they seared as if he had dug claws into you, refusing to let go.

"Yeah," you answered, but you hated how broken you sounded, even to your own ears.

Your lie was obvious, not just in the tone of your voice but in the posture of your body. How sweaty hands held a half folded shirt against your stomach as if you could hide away the shame that ate away at you. Stepping to the side, John slowly lowered your hands away from you body and turned you to face him where you were met with the watery hue of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, all but ripping the answer from your mouth.

You hated the way your lip trembled, how your shame crashed against you with such overwhelming force you nearly suffocated. There were countless times when you had been bare in front of him, laid out perfectly in bed or on top of him with a sweaty body and quickened breath. So why did you feel more stripped in that moment than any other?

"Do you... still think I'm pretty?" you choked out.

John's expression didn't change much after those words left your mouth. It was as if he already knew what ailed you. In a way, he always seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.

"Do you think you are?" he countered.

"Not anymore."

He had expected that answer too, and yet still couldn't hide the way he nearly winced. You braced yourself for his rebuttal, for the string of words telling you that you were beautiful, that you were crazy to think otherwise. Your whole life, self deprecation was always met with stern correction, because god forbid you ever felt a little insecure.

But it wasn't that way with John.

Instead, he sunk to the ground until he was on his knees, and when he took your hands into his it felt as if he was proposing all over again. The love in his eyes, the way his thumbs ran over your knuckles, it was all so intimate, so raw, and your throat grew tight at the sight.

"You brought a beautiful, perfect girl into our lives," he said softly. His eyes didn't stray from you for even a moment. "Carried her for months. Nourished her; still nourishing her. I think it's a little unfair to expect yourself to stay unchanged. Doesn't make you any less beautiful. You're still my wife. My girl. The mother of my child."

It was impossible to stop the tears from spilling, and they only fell harder the moment John leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against your stomach. So tender, as if embracing an open wound and healing it all in the same motion. It was so kind, too kind, and it forced all of your thoughts and held back words to dissipate in the back of your throat.

"Darling, you're the love of my life," he said in a near whisper, "don't ever forget that."

#mafia!price #mafia!141 #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #f!reader

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eddies-house · 1 month

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Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

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Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.

A senseless daydream.

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it. Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape. This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place. It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt. Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life. And last week he was suddenly dead. It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie. All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor. Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s. Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste. Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.

Whatever you wanted.

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke. His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you. He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him. He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place. Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick. He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible. Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible. And for what? For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions. Pathetic, he knew. But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man. Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything. He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come. A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind. And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver. The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him. He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better. It was a lie. He never had the flu. He didn’t feel better. He wanted to die. And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive. Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon. His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones. There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did. A flaw in the system. And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?

Several.

He thought to himself.

You could have gone to school, shown up.

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no. So. Many. Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death. He couldn’t stop making excuses. Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse. For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together. Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had. It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision. He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid. Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed. And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues. Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies. Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum. Dancing in the living room. Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees. Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin. Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense. Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer. That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised. Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights. Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in. Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home. Only he rarely did. Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time. Years and years of push back. A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.

“My dad has a ton of jobs.” He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.

The kids would snicker. Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness. And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day. Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them. Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature. At least that’s how dad described it. It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse. They called his dad a drunk. They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged. “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie. Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time. Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt. And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up. Closure in some kind of fucked up way. Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with. Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes. Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability. No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door. He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it. This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions. He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world. They shouldn’t have to worry about me. With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana. A life he’d always longed for anyway.

Be careful what you wish for.

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away. “One slip up…” They had said. It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him. Literally anyone. As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.

Cause he was nothing if not a problem. First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.

“Eddie?!”

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry. The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.” His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime. “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear. Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen. With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made. You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” You soothe.

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose. A wordless commitment. Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere. You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure. Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had. Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at. He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house. Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred. If either spoke it would make it real. Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him. There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind. Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip. It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him. In the standard of fight or flight, he froze. Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together. His croaking voice made that hard. But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability. And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime. Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him. Maybe that was dare you even think it, love. But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions. Conclusions you backtracked on immediately. It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–” A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.” His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior. “I shouldn’t–” There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath. “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn. Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet. Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.

“How’d you know?” He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.

“Wayne called me.” You sigh. “Said he got my number from Steve. Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?” At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it. “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in. Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.” You assure, taking care to relax your features. “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out. He wanted me to check in. I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.” You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again. You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick. The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor. There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better. You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again. It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words. When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage. In his eyes.

“But I will be. Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses. Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble. A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.” You demand.

“No, Bambi. Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key. Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself. And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses. His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness. Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in. He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!” Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow. “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down. I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it. My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.” Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze. A plea. “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in. I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal. It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him. The room turned colder, more vacant. Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart? His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall. The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended. Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness. Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what? Stormed off? Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat. He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other. And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness. The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut. An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.” You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth. “And I did. You didn’t say how long or—or where to go. But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake. Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips. Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you. Your boy.

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense. Bambi and Eddie. There is not one without the other, not anymore. Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”

It just fell from his tongue. A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious? Is that what you’re gonna ask?” He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping. Not because you’re afraid, no, never. You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts. “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.

“Bad.” He reiterates. “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.” Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip. “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it. And I’ll run with it. Far. Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.”

“I’m a pathetic man. Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.” You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.” He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow! Jesus fuck.” Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek. “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of. Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.

“Can you…can you do that again?” He whispers. Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck. His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest wet dreams.

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail. And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.

“Like that, baby?” You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.” A whisper that tells you everything. “I-I never—no one’s ever—“ He tries to warn you.

“What?” You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe. “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”

“Just my hand.” Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap. Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his. Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.

“We can stop.” You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.” His voice shakes, chest heaving. “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him. But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable. Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.” You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him. “Let me take care of you.”

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles. You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you. His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far. His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.” You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.” He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria. “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.

“Please, baby. Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.

“You bought condoms? Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!” You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back. You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?” You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care. Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed. You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you. Purely Eddie. Woodsy and minty. A tad smoky. And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room. And then it plays. A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love. A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.

“Well alright, cowboy.” You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.

“Shut up.” He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.

“C’mere.” You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you. “Wanna see you.”

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach. Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago. The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined. While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side. Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him. Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants. Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet. But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side. His eyes grow, lips parted in awe. And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control. And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval. That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it. Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red. Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.” While grinding into nothing, poor boy. “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands. You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth. Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps. Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair.

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot. Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned. Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone. The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom. The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm. Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting. The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds. Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what. Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime. Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm. His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted. You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark. All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you. He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless. Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit. Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”. That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close. Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart. Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.

It could help though. And that’s all that mattered. If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing. If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree. Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar. Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works. Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did. Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste. Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes. While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet. Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity. Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips. A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth. It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?” He laughs, voice husky with sleep.

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created. Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow. He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”

Eddie just stared.

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!” You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you. When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse. I just didn’t. I’m sorry.” His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck. And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you. I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.” You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table. Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you. Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute. He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing.

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I. Love. You.” You enunciate each word with a peck. “Point blank. No exceptions. You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man? We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records. A huge stack of them. All genres. Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal. It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling. That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?” You scoff. “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school. You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach. He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.

And he was blushing.

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me. I picked some out that I knew you’d like. Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them. Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him. Like Pandora’s box or something. Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper. A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold. His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper. It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head. Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture. At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said.

“No fucking way.” He smiles, half laughs. Then repeats himself. Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around. Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table. The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other. Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between. His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three. Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled. Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere. You miss it. But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything. Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi. Makes small talk with mom and grandma. Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day. No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her. He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang. Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual. Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background. Something about a broken sled. Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either. This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on. Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default. She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially. Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house. Beautiful in the summertime. Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays. One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #smoke signals #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie Munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic

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