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#time gonna be wondering about that crying comment all day and night
gintrinsic-writing · 5 months
Text
the hero of twiLIT
CW: drug use
--
The local hero stared at them like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. 
“Sorry to disturb your fishing,” Time began, motioning to the simple wooden rod that was propped haphazardly between a rock and a very lumpy pumpkin. “But it’s important that we speak with you.”
The hero used his tongue to push a wheat stem from one corner of his mouth to the other, looking no less bewildered than before. A goat bleated in the distance. 
“You’re Link, right?” Sky asked when the silence became too much.
The hero nodded slowly. 
“Well,” Sky continued, smiling through the awkwardness, “we share the same name. All of us do, actually, though you can call me Sky. We’re heroes like you, but from different eras of Hyrule.”
“Timelines, too,” Legend pointed out, eyeing the little bag by the hero’s crossed legs. 
“Right,” Sky agreed. “We’re not exactly sure why, but something or someone is bringing us together through magic portals. You’re the fourth of us. I mean, obviously.” He laughed and gestured to their little group.  
The hero didn’t share Sky’s strained amusement. He rubbed his eyes, glanced up, then rubbed his eyes again. His gaze drifted back to Time with obvious bafflement. “Ordona almighty, I’m in fuckin’ space.”
Time blinked. “Pardon?”
“The hell’s this laced with, Jaggle?” the hero drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ain’t no way this is normal.”
“Looks like our newest clown is high,” Legend said with a grin. He pointed to the bag by the hero’s feet. “Those’re shrooms.” 
Sky’s ears twitched back and forth rapidly. “High?”
“Very,” the hero agreed, reaching forward to collect his things. He didn’t seem to care much about them anymore. 
“Wha—” Sky closed his mouth with a little click when the hero suddenly stood up and began walking away. “Wait, we still need to talk to you!”
“Nope,” the hero answered. “Y’ain’t real. And you,” he rounded on Time with an accusatory finger, “you just make me wanna cry.”
Time stared after the hero with a dumbfounded expression. “I’m sorry?”
“Mhm. Better be.” The hero didn’t spare them another glance as he walked through the pumpkin patch and over the bridge leading to the center of Ordon Village. He did, however, stop to admire a “real pretty” leaf for several seconds. Then he was out of sight altogether.
“Do we… go after him?” Sky asked the other two. 
Legend snickered. “Give it about six hours. He should be sober by then.”
Sky raised both brows. “And how would you know?”
There was a long and incriminating pause, during which Legend also started to walk away. “Saw ‘em in a book once,” he threw over his shoulder.
“You saw—” Sky huffed in disbelief, then looked to Time for support. “Can you believe them?”
Time shrugged and gestured for Sky to lead the way after Legend. “I grew up in a forest, and the Kokiri were very… attuned to nature?” He paused as he thought it over, then nodded in apparent satisfaction. “I also had a magical mask that specifically let me find mushrooms, among other things, so.”
“‘Other things’?” 
Time’s grin was disarmingly mischievous. “Other things.”
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yuyusboyfriend · 9 months
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Good Boy ✧.
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roommate!yunho drives me crazy bro...
pairing: roommate!yunho x gn!reader
wordcount: 1,7k
content: helping your roommate with a hard problem...
warnings: nsfw, pet names (tiny, baby, good boy), handjob, cum eating, dirty talk (?), lots of praise, sub!yunho dom!reader (lmk if I missed anything)
comments and reblogs appreciated <3
masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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When you usually walk through the door after a long day of classes, you'd hear your roommate, yunho, crashing around in the kitchen cooking up something for you both to eat once you got home. Sometimes he would be in his room playing valorant, shouting down the mic to his friend group telling mingi to step up his game -
Tonight? There's no noise. Atleast that's what it seemed like, until you hear a sniffle coming from the corridor as you place your shoes by the door. "is....is he crying?" you whisper to yourself as if the house was going to answer back. As you drop your bag on the counter and take small steps towards your roommates room, all you hear is shuffling, followed by the squeaks of a bedframe.
"No....is someone here with him?", your heart sank at the thought. Not that you had shared this with anyone but your close friend, woo, but some time after yunho moved in, you started having....dreams... about him. At first they were innocent, like playing games and having movie nights, but after the first few you noticed they became more...sexual. The first night you jumped in horror, filled head to toe with guilt and a hotter feeling you couldn't put into words, but grateful that your yelp didn't wake up the boy on the other side of the wall. When he stroked your arm that morning, a normal gesture between the two of you (at least usually), you jumped out of your skin and flinched away from him.
"You okay, tiny?" concern in his voice hitting your ears mixing with the guilt in your head.
"Sorry, yeah im good, just no sleep", you pulled your best fake smile despite all the questions running through your head; why the skin on your arm where yunhos hand formerly was feel like it was burning up? Why was your heart racing so fast? Why did the droplets on yunho's face and neck from the reminence of his shower make your throat feel like the Sahara desert?
"Were you up playing ac with seonghwa again? I told him to not keep you up late anymore, I'm gonna message him aga-"
"It's okay, yunho, seonghwa was probably fast asleep, it was just too....cold", You cut his worrying off with the lamest excuse you could think of. After that encounter, every touch yunho initiated, every time he jumped into your bed when he was bored, or wrapped his arms around you when he put his hoodie on you, made your whole body heat like you had swallowed the sun. You wondered if he did it on purpose, if he knew the control he had over your heart rate....
..."I guess not." You held back an aching tear at the prospect of yunho having someone on his bed that wasn't you. You silently begged the stars that it wasn't the case as you creeped closer to his room. one step. Two steps. You noticed the door was cracked open. three steps.
"y/n please.."
What? did he just say y/n? you stop just short of his door to process what you just heard. Were you hallucinating? was the stress of school and your crush finally getting to your head to the point you think you heard yunho say-
"fuck, y/n please." he says again, this time a litre of desperation in his gravelly voice apparent. He was practically panting out your name in what sounded like frustration, his breaths shaky and uneven.
You took another step forward, finally standing in his doorframe to add a visual to what you've been hearing. Holy fuck.
Yunho splayed out on his bed gripping the sheets with one hand and furiously rocking his hips into the other. His hoodie, once held between his teeth, now pathetically shifting over his sensitive skin making him harder, if it was even possible.
His tip looked red and angry to say the least, his skin was glistening from sweat and he could barely keep his eyes open. How long had he been at this for?
You realise you've been standing here, perving over your unknowing roommate, but as you attempt to step away from the scene of the crime to try and forget what you've witnessed (even though you know this will fuel your dreams for the next month) you felt your keys slip out of your previously suffocating grip.
With a loud clash, no thanks to your 80 keychains, you let out a panicked squeak and yunho jumped to cover himself on the bed at the noise, till he realises what just happened.
"Y/n it's not- I'm-" he tries to get the words out but after his body had been working in overdrive, nothing made sense.
"Sorry yunho, I didn't see anything!" you yelped out as you tried to turn around and run to your own room, but a firm grip on your arm turns you back to yunho.
He was disheveled and had barely managed to put himself back into his sweatpants, the friction excruciating on his aching tip. God, he looked angelic, his hood still over his head covering his sweat drenched hair, and overshadowing the deep red on his cheeks and ears. His eyes darting to look everywhere but yours, eventually settling on your lips.
"y/n...I need... please help me." he whispered while rubbing circles into your arm, scared for your answer.
"sit." Your shaky voice betraying your attempt at being assertive. Nonetheless, yunho walks backward till he falls back, you following in tow.
He's already whimpering at you sitting down and straddling one of his legs as you start to pull his grey sweats down just enough once again.
"god.." You think. He looked big before when he was stroking himself, and you always suspected he was packing by the indent in his towel after showers, but seeing it up close was a game changer.
"think about my size later y/n, please it hurts.." He whimpers out, making you realise you had said it out loud. Putting your embarrasment aside, you brush your thumb down the underside of his dick till you reach the base, where you wrap your whole hand (barely, his girth was just as impressive) and squeeze a little, testing the waters. He cried out in pleasure from your touch, begging for more, and rutting his hips up best he can - in the process giving you some friction making your mind a little fuzzy.
You worked your hand up and down his angry cock turning him into a blubbering mess. Yunho was so overwhelmed by the sensations his brain had short-circuited and all he could blubber out between was "baby please", "y/n fuck, ah", "tiny nnghh".
"am I making you feel good, yuyu?" you asked with a sultry voice and hooded eyes. You could die a happy person right now if this is the last thing you see. God, yunho was in such state, sticky glistening skin looking edible.
"Yuyu. Answer me baby, or I'll stop." You teased, not even sure you'd be able to stop if you tried.
"baby yes yes please god fuck tiny im so close." He huffed out while vigorously nodding his head. What a sweet boy - too bad you couldn't help teasing him a little more. You slowed down the pace making him whine and cry out a symphony of pleads. Music to your ears, you don't know how you lived your whole life without this.
"please tiny, I'll be good please, let me cum" he cried, his voice breaking.
"you sound so pretty like this yuyu... you're such a good boy." His dick leaked precum and twitched in your palm at the pet names, something you'd keep in mind for a later date. You sped your pace back up again and started nibbling on his burning earlobe, making him cry out whatever was coming to his fucked out brain.
"I'm your good boy ah, tiny, please-" and another string of curses and whimpers. You could tell by his tightening grip on you that he was close. He could feel the knot in his stomach getting tighter, ready to snap.
"be a good boy and cum for me, yuyu."
Thats all it took for his whole body to tense up, cum spurting out of his cock in ropes, reaching your face and soaking your hand. He slumped against your shoulder from exhaustion and euphoria as you pumped your hand around him once more, letting him ride out his high.
"y/n," Yunho shot his head up with a sorry expression now that the brain fog had cleared. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to drag you into thi-" before he could finish, you distracted his train of thought by wiping the cum off of your cheek, and experimentally licking the tip of your finger. A little salty but surprisingly sweet? Before giving him a peck on the cheek to see where his head was at.
He watched in awe as you put his cum on the tip of your tongue, nearly eliciting a second orgasm from him just at the sight. When you pulled away from his cheek a dark blush covered his ears and face, and his round eyes filled with shock that you didn't hate him after that, guilt fading with every millisecond.
His eyes locked with your plump lips before pulling you in to join his. Your mouths molded together as though they were made for eachother, and you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip asking for access. Of course he slipped his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like a starved man, biting your lip and caressing your jaw. After minutes of claiming his mouth you finally broke away for air.
with a glint in your eye looking into his, "So, how you going to repay me yuyu?"
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my first fic 😭😭😭 this was suppose to just be drabble but man ....... I love yunho
this isn't proofread or anything so sorry for any mistakes❤️‍🩹
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erwinsvow · 2 months
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you fiddle with the r necklace, rubbing it between your fingers like you always do deep in thought. you should have gotten rid of the necklace the day the two of you broke up, but a hopelessly sad and defiant part of you refused to take it off. it’d been long enough now that it was getting to the point of weird rather than just pathetic. at least, your friends thought so, and they never hesitated to let you know. after all, there was no one that hated your boyfriend more than them.
“you’re doing it again,” kiara comments, staring at your hand mid-motion, the pendant slipping from your grip as you drop it immediately. 
“doing what?” you question innocently, face burning. 
“i still think it’s creepy that he wanted you to wear a necklace with his initial. it’s like a brand. it’s dehumanizing.” 
“or, like, a dog collar,” jj says, holding back a laugh. you look up at them with a blank expression, because you really don’t have any retort. maybe it was rafe’s brand on you, maybe your friends are right. but you think, chest tight, that you didn’t mind being branded by him.
you change the topic because you’ll start crying if you think about it too long—of course they don’t mind, they encourage you to talk about anything but rafe these days. if only it was that easy to get your mind off of him.
rafe doesn’t make it easy on you either. what was supposed to be an amenable break-up had transformed and twisted into something completely different—something that your friends would kill you if they found out about. the first few weeks had been normal, like any other break-up, you sobbed on john b’s shoulder, accepted tissues from pope and listened to jj talk badly about rafe for as long as you could listen. you spent hours with kiara and sarah exploring all the reasons why it was so not meant to be, not when you and rafe were night and day, not when he was still dealing and doing coke. and then, just like other break-ups, the time came to put all of rafe’s shirts and the teddy bears he’d bought you and the photos on your wall into a box and get rid of it all.
you think you’re doing a good thing, by bringing rafe his shirts back instead of burning them like jj suggested. you knock on the door to tannyhill, making sure you spot his truck parked outside—even though one glance at the car where you’d lost your virginity to rafe makes your face burn up. you feel flushed and clammy when rafe opens the door, and he looks at you like nothing’s happened since he saw you last, and the rest of your resolve caves almost immediately. 
“hey, kid.”
“hi,” you chirp, pulling your eyes away from rafe’s before he convinces you to do something you’ll regret. “i brought your clothes back. i had more than i realized.” you offer him the box, but he doesn’t extend his arms.
“nah, you can keep them. you’ll be needin’ them anyways.”
“what?”
“how long d’you think we’re gonna stay broken up for? huh? another week? two?”
“rafe, i-”
“it’s okay, kid, just keep them.”
“no, i think you should take them-”
“why don’t you come upstairs and put them away f’me? hm?”
the first time it happens, you tell yourself it was a one-time mistake, that could happen to anyone. you’re wrapped up in rafe’s sheets, naked and sweaty, trying your hardest to catch your breath while you stare at the muscles of rafe’s back while he pulls up his laptop and finishes whatever he was working on. your phone keeps going off, probably your friends wondering why you’re so late to dinner. you pray to god kiara doesn’t check your location.
“you gonna get that?” rafe asks, turning back to look at you. you just look at him, delirious and still incredibly sad, wondering if this is the last time you’ll ever be in rafe’s bed again. 
“no, they’re just gonna ask me where i am.”
“still lettin’ them control how you really feel? gotta work on that, baby.” you feel any anger bubbling up at the fact that rafe still thinks you let your friends decide your feelings for you—a key point you had argued during the break-up—melt away at the sound of the nickname.
“they don’t like how much i like you.” you say it kind of sadly, like things could be different, like the two of you could have made it work in another world. you fiddle with your necklace, before unclasping it and letting it drop onto rafe’s palm. “i should go now.” 
it feels much too intense, like the third-act breakup in the cheesy books you read. you want rafe to fight for you, you want your friends to like him, but that means he has to change, and as much as it pains you to admit it, you don’t want any part of him to change. you want your friends to change their minds, but they won’t, and you want rafe to care that your friends don’t like him, but he doesn’t.
you try to move but he manhandles you into place, a hand on your wrist tugging you back into bed. he pushes your hair aside, clasping the necklace back on, and then rafe presses a kiss to the back of your neck.
“don’t ever take this off again, got it?”
you nod. rafe sends you to the chateau in one of his shirts and you pray to god no one notices that or your necklace is still in its usual place.
the next time it happens, you can’t even try to argue that it was an accident. you knew rafe wouldn’t make this easy for you, but you didn’t think he could make it so impossibly difficult. his texts light up your phone, only a few feet away from pope and john on the couch, watching the movie but only half paying attention.
R: where are you tonight
R: you coming here or do i need to come get you?
your heart settles into your stomach, being attacked by the wings of the butterflies that have made their home there. rafe talks to you like the two of you are still dating, and your mind slips into an easy, soft place where that is still your reality. 
“what kinda porn are you lookin’ at right now?” jj asks, and you break out of your fantasy.
“what?” you blubber out, before john b interrupts.
“jj, stop making everything about porn.”
“i’ve seen that look before, man, it’s the exact face pope makes when he found somethin’ fun and fresh. so what’s your type, i mean, you can share with the class-”
after slapping jj on the back of the head and reassuring everyone that there was no porn on your phone—only the promise of something better waiting for you, but they don’t need to know that—you head out, replying to rafe quickly.
coming now. 
this time, you can’t lie and act surprised that you’ve ended up here again. rafe turns on his tv to watch the evening news, and it’s so silly you almost want to laugh, but you stay silent, watching him watch the news and taking a sip of the water he got for you. 
you turn your head to place the cup on his nightstand, and see your lip balm perched next to his lamp.
“i’ve been looking for this,” you say, picking it up and turning to rafe. 
“yeah, you left it here.”
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“‘cause i knew you’d be back.”
you think that’s enough to be your reality check. it’s not.
a week later, you accompany your friends to the bonfire. you play with your necklace while they fill up plastic cups with beer from the keg.
“you’re never gonna get over him if you keep wearing things he got you,” kiara says, taking a sip from her cup. you know she’s only trying to help you, that she’s only worried about you. you wish they would stop bringing him up.
“i’m not ready to take it off.”
“that’s not healthy. in fact, that’s so unhealthy that-”
“i said i’m not ready. can we drop it?”
“why not?” she asks, and you feel tears start to build along your eyes. “oh jeez, speak of the devil.” you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder, turning to face rafe.
“can i have a minute?” he says, looking at kie.
“no. you can’t have any,” comes her reply, until you look back. 
“kie, i’ll be right back.” 
you and rafe walk, ignoring the shout of your friend to not go, to an empty spot by the fire. 
“didn’t think you’d come here,” rafe says, quietly. you look at your shoes to avoid looking into his eyes.
“they dragged me along… trying to make me meet someone new.”
“yeah? is it working?” 
“i just told my best friend i’m not ready to take your necklace off, so, what’d you think-” rafe stops you, his hand coming up to lift your chin to make you meet his eyes finally. he presses his lip to yours—it feels different than the hundreds of times he’s kissed you before. your eyes flutter shut, a sole tear spilling down your cheek. 
you wonder if everyone’s looking. you decide you don’t really care.
“i told ya not to take that necklace off.”
“i listened, rafe,” you breathe softly.
“i know,” he says, kissing you again and then pulling away. “you’re a good girl. you always listen. i’m done with this crap, and i don’t care what your idiot friends say. not staying away from you. no one can make me, not even you.”
“i don’t want you to stay away.” rafe takes the pendant with his initial into his fingers, playing with it before letting it fall against your chest.
“good. now go tell them you’re coming home with me and let’s get outta here.”
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dollfaceksj · 5 months
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I'm gonna cry if he's mean to her 😭 she would definitely deserve it, I just wouldn't like it though
:)
a/n: early cal update bc i won’t be able to post this weekend. 🫶🏽
can’t afford love | myg (m) #22
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⋆ TAGLIST ⋆
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⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢
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WHAT DO YOU DO?
“I don’t want to be alone.” — 91,4%
GO HOME ALONE — 8,6%
382 votes
you chose:
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“i don’t want to be alone.”
you say it without even glancing at him
scared of
rejection? disbelief? annoyance?
and in your peripherals you see yoongi typing away on his phone
doesn’t even glance your way
immersed in his phone
you awkwardly scratch at the back of your head
wondering why he’s straight up ignoring you
well
girl…
clearly you’ve forgotten about what the hell he confronted you with before leaving for the hospital
he has every right to just not be in the mood to even deal with you
so what if you don’t want to be alone?
he definitely didn’t want to be slapped in the face with that revelation from earlier but you still did it
“yoongi?” you say, quietly, hoping to grab his attention
but he simply keeps typing
doesn’t glance your way
you swallow your pride and reach for the door handle, opening up the car door
the sound of his belt unbuckling and snapping back in place takes you by surprise
you turn to look at him and he’s preparing to get out of the car as well
you decide not to comment on it as you get out and close the car door quietly
make your way home
with yoongi in your wake.
with your shoes kicked off by the door and your clothes messily thrown over your dresser, you slide into your pajamas
yoongi’s still on his phone, sitting on your bed
you know you deserve a cold shoulder but damn
you glance at him before getting into your bed, turning your back to him
you’re not sure he even wants to look at you
but then again, why did he decide to stay the night?
is it pity?
you suppose it is
cause if you’ve ever seen yoongi pissed off it was earlier today
“yoongi,” you say, trying to catch his attention yet again
this time he simply hums in response
you ask, “what are you doing?”
no response whatsoever
you frown at the wall
(since your back is turned to him)
“yoon–”
“give me a second, will you?”
oh
okay
he sounds a bit irritated
but that’s the least he should be
he has every right to scream your head off
and yet, all thats coming out of his mouth are words laced with annoyance
he’s been on his phone since you got out of the car
who is he talking to?
is he ignoring you or is he really just preoccupied?
but who could he be texting this late at night?
you can’t help but be curious
“who are you even talking to?”
and why are you ignoring me?
no, not why
you know why
and he has every right to be mad at you
“my boss, y/n. jesus.”
his boss?
why is he talking to his boss?
at this time of–
oh
oh.
is he
asking
for a day off tomorrow?
he took out his phone the moment you told him you didn’t want to be alone
has he been trying to get a day off? is that why his nose has been buried in his phone?
he finally locks his phone with a click and rises to his feet. “goodnight.”
you suppose he’s going to take the couch
“wait,” you call out, back still turned to him.
you hear him halt in his tracks, waiting for you to say whatever it is you need to tell him
“sleep here,” you pause. “with me.”
you almost choke as you try to get the words out
it makes you so nervous
will he think it’s a bad idea?
will he comply?
will he tell you that–
a few more moments until the bed besides you dips a bit deeper
okay
he’s in bed with you
back to yours
so close
yet soooo far
it feels like there’s a brick wall with a girth worth of 5 meters
he sighs quietly and rubs his eyes.
takes a deep breath before he says, “let’s talk.”
you’re quiet for a moment
simply staring at the wall
trying to steady your breathing
you begin, “what do you want to talk abo–”
“don’t piss me off.”
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alright
you guess you deserved that one
you sigh quietly and turn onto your back to stare at the ceiling. “i’m sorry.”
he doesn’t respond
“i was selfish. what i did was selfish.”
again, no response
it’s quiet between you two
real quiet
until he finally speaks. “can i be shallow for a second?”
huh?
“oh,” you mumble. “go ahead.”
“you know,” he starts, “i married you not only because i liked you so much but because i thought you were the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
he continues, “well, in all honesty, i still do.” he doesn’t move, just continues to give you his cold back. “aside from having imagined to spend the rest of my life with you because i really believed it was going to happen, you, as a person, are everything i wanted and more.”
you continue to stare at the ceiling, feeling a tingle in your body that starts at your feet and slowly grows throughout the rest of your body.
“and not to be fucking gross but you turn me on so fucking much. was watching you eat my food last week and got so fucking hard just looking at you. you’re so elegant and sexy with everything you do. i look at you and feel so fucking lucky to have been part of your life.”
you clench your jaw in an attempt to block yourself from breaking out into a sob
“i can’t put it into words, y/n but, no matter what stage we’re at, i’m always gonna be so fucking attracted to you. stretchmarks and loose skin—i literally can’t bring myself to give a fuck. i don’t care what size you are or if if you’re bigger than you were at 18. isn’t that normal? you carried a baby for nearly a year. so what if you weigh more now? whatever. more to love.”
….
oh
oh.
okay.
and that’s
how you
start tearing up
your heart feels like its been shattered into a million pieces
and it’s yoongi who is holding the level 100 5 star sledgehammer weapon
but it’s also yoongi who has unlocked the ultra healing magic buff
“it must have been so hard for you.” he slowly turns onto his back too, allowing you to look at the side of his face. “i’m sorry for not taking all of it into consideration. in my defense, i’ve always thought you were perfect.”
you sniff quietly and bring your hand up to wipe your cheeks. you shake your head. “don’t apologize. please.”
it’s quiet again and he continues to stare at the ceiling in silence
“i just wish you would have been comfortable enough to tell me.”
and you wish that too
but it’s embarrassing
and humiliating to even think about, let alone trust someone else with it
he finally turns onto his side to face you. “i really do mean it when i say you’re the most beautiful woman,” he pauses, “until we have a daughter. then she’s gonna be the most beautiful cause she’ll look like me.”
a soft giggle escapes you as he jokes, welcoming it with open arms
you look up at him, eyes glued to the small smile on his lips
“i’m so sorry, yoongi.”
“i know you are. i am too.”
“are you mad?”
he thinks about his answer for a moment. “i was at first. thought i was gonna smash my car with my bare fists.” he nods. “but i don’t think it’d be right for me to be mad at you for struggling so much with something i failed to see. i guess i’m just..” he sighs. “upset about the whole thing. it could’ve been avoided.”
you sniff quietly. “how? how was i supposed to tell you i just wanted to enjoy more time with you when it was me that forced the divorce down your throat? it wouldn’t be fair, not to you.”
how are you supposed to tell the man you forcibly kicked out that you weren’t ready to let go of him?
he rubs his forehead. “why did we ever let it get that far?”
you stay quiet
sniff again
wipe your nose and wet cheeks
“because i was selfish and childish. i wanted you to chase me and convince me that i only belonged to you.” it feels good to finally speak honestly. “i suppose you were done playing those games.”
“why were you still playing those? i thought we could be adults so many years into our marriage.”
“because,” you start, “i was bored. i didn’t do anything. i was home constantly, i didn’t go out. i didn’t have shit to do. you were barely home,” you say shakily, trying to swallow down the sob that’s threatening to spill
“just wanted to feel something whenever you showed up but i was just…” you sniff again. “…so mad at you for leaving me lonely that instead of trying to fix things, i wanted to piss you off. make you mad. make you feel the way i felt.”
it’s quiet
you try to stop yourself from sobbing quietly but to no avail
“so long story short, you started shoving divorce papers down my throat in hopes i’d chase you and just say fuck you to my responsibility as your husband and jun’s father to make sure we had food on the table.”
well
you don’t even really respond to that
because isn’t that basically what happened?
yes, sure, you were bored
but yoongi’s feelings shouldn’t have been messed with
he doesn’t say much else
just turns his back to you again and says,
“let’s sleep.”
and you try.
even though it’s nearly impossible with that agitating knife that’s nestled in your heart.
to be continued
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nateezfics · 1 month
Note
so uhhhh those pics of hj in the suit at the hotel give pre wedding energy…if that gives you any kind of fic inspiration…
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hongjoong getting ready for his wedding. this man will be in some sort of designer suit. like head to toe, it’s designer. i mean, it’s hongjoong so.
imagine him at the hotel getting ready on the day of your wedding. the rest of ateez are there to support him, to help him get prepared for the event ahead. he’s absolutely a sight in his suit, his hair fixed, a fancy watch on his wrist. his empty left ring finger that he keeps staring at, thinking about how in just while there will be a ring there, and he’ll be a married man. he’s so giddy the whole time he’s getting ready, body humming with nerves and excitement. he’s recounting his vows in his head, but seonghwa assures him that he’s got a copy of the written vows. the rest of the boys giving him pats on the back and encouraging words. wooyoung making a comment about how gorgeous you’re gonna look, and hongjoong’s head becoming occupied by you. he’s so ready to see you in your pretty white dress. he might burst if he doesn’t see you soon. hongjoong texting you periodically during down time while he still waits at the hotel. you don’t respond — you’re busy getting ready of course — but he sends them anyway. he sends things like “god i can’t wait to see you baby” “you’re going to be so beautiful” “i love you more than anything” “ready to be mrs.kim?” “i’m so lucky i get to marry you”.
hongjoong letting his mind wander to what happens after the wedding, when he gets to have you, his bride, all to himself. he thinks about getting to make love to you for the first time as husband and wife. all the things he’s gonna do to you, starting with carefully pulling your wedding gown down your body. he wonders if you’re wearing lingerie underneath. and god, it’s a lot, and he has to be careful when he starts feeling his trousers become a little snug.
hongjoong crying despite his best efforts not to when he finally sees you. he’s just so in awe of you; you’re literally the most stunning person he’s ever met. buries his face in your neck when he hugs you to hide his tears, which ends up getting caught on camera by the photographer, and turning out to be such precious photos. hongjoong will totally cradle your face when he kisses you after being announced husband and wife. and he absolutely does not let go of your hand the entire wedding. you’re inseparable.
hongjoong being antsy to get you to the hotel. because he needs you all to himself. his touches are sneaky during the reception, growing braver the needier he becomes. there’s alcohol in his system, and he just can’t help himself. being absolutely reverent with you on your wedding night. the amount of love between you two fills up the whole hotel room. saying “i love you” over and over against your skin.
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eddiernunson · 9 months
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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18 +
Previous Part | Master List | Next Part
Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing and spit balling ideas and giving feedback.
Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spit balling ideas and fueling my ego &lt;3
I have no idea where this story or be without either of you girls. Or me, for that matter.
Word count: 16.6k
Warnings: Degradation/praise, light use of sir without any discussion, light hunter/prey play, crying while fucking (eddie), and a whole steddie story at the start. Lots of talk of their future in this part.
Author's note: When I say I am blown away by the reception of this fanfic, wholeheartedly mean it. Any word of kindness you have given just fueled the fire in me. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and exploring where the story will take us.
Due to some worry in the comments from last part I will clear this up: Neither Eddie nor Reader will be cheating, they're it for one another. Steve is here as a long time friend, someone with a wife and kids at home.
That being said, thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.
edit: somehow the first paragraph was missing? all fixed.
About 26/27 Years Ago:
At the failure of both their university careers, Steve and Eddie both dropped out within weeks of one another. This was unplanned, neither one of them knowing as they went back to Hawkins to a mini reunion. They agreed to meet one another for a drink, just the two of them, where Steve kindly asked how Eddie’s schooling was going, to which Eddie answered sheepishly that he had dropped out. Steve let out a bark of laughter, laughing through his response that he had also dropped out.
The mutual sigh of relief waved over them both, the two of them grateful they wouldn’t be receiving that same damn look of pity again. Their conversation then flowed into ease; the embarrassment was no longer there for either of them. Since they both dropped out, they each had found a dead-end job to make their ends meet while they figured out their next move.
Simply, they were at the exact same spot in life. This would be reoccurring for them over the next few years, finding their wives within the same six-month span, and both Arlo and Dylan being born within a year of one another. It’s no wonder why they became so close.
Steve had a crazy idea in their third hour in the bar booth, a little bit buzzed. “Dude. We should go to Vegas.”
Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows, completely thrown off by the suggestion. “What?”
“C’mon, Vegas! Our jobs both suck, and we’re the only ones who actually understand each-other’s shituations.”
Eddie sighed and took another sip of his beer. “Fuck it, let’s go.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“When?”
“Now!”
Eddie nearly spit out his beer, looking at Steve like he was crazy. “Now?”
“Dude. I still have my parents’ credit cards. They’re too lazy to actually cut me off.” Steve’s words were a bit slurred, holding up the many black cards.
Eddie downed his beer; the financials were his number one reason not to go. If this was gonna be on the Harrington’s dime, you best believe he would take full advantage of his friend’s shitty parents’ money.
Halfway through their first bus, Steve and Eddie started to sober up and wondered if it was a good idea. Too late, they were already four hours away. It took a total of 31 hours of driving on the road and about six different buses, but they finally made it to Nevada with nothing but the shirts on their backs and delirious glee.
The first two days they spent gambling and shooting the shit, both nights staring up at the bodies of women with numerous dollar bills in string thongs. (Eddie will omit this part when he tells it to you, for your own sanity’s sake.) On the third night, as Steve was a bit more drunk than the previous two, Eddie found a strong ass strain of weed on the strip and was a bit stoned. One of them managed to convince the other that finding girls to hook up with was the good idea.
They both went on with their night, keeping an eye out for any girl they could prospect. Even with a few conversations with some girls, they both came up short. Hooking up with women who were also running away from their problems was a bad idea.
Steve found a girl, but soon realized she was a dud when she made fun of Eddie’s bandana wrapped around his head. Eddie came up to Steve as she rolled her eyes and stomped off. Jesus. As he rested on the bar, he noticed something he wondered if he had imagined the whole three days they were there. Eddie’s eyes lingered on him, checking him out not-so-subtly. Steve leered on Eddie’s soft pink lips for too long for Steve to confidently tell himself he was not interested. His eyes raked down Eddie, taking in everything, subconsciously licking his lips. Having these thoughts, he realized Eddie was talking to him the entire time and he didn’t take in a single word.
“Well, that was a bust. C’mon. Let’s go get our sleep, we’re spending the next two days bussing home.” Steve yanked Eddie by the sleeve of the gift shop shirt he got up to the hotel elevator.
Eddie wandered into the bathroom when they got to their room and when he came out, he saw Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, legs out and leant back on straight arms. Eddie chuckled nervously. As dorky as it was, Steve looked fantastic in the makeshift gift shop outfit he had gotten himself.
“Steve?” He asked, hesitantly walking towards him.
An uncontrollable huff of laughter left Steve’s mouth, he stood up to face Eddie, accidentally meeting him only inches away from his face. It was a flicker. Only a flicker. A flicker of Eddie’s eyes looking directly to Steve’s lips, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “You know, Eddie. If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide, the panic in his face was clear. “I-I…” He stuttered, his breathing picked up exponentially in the last two minutes and the air in the hotel room was thick.
Steve gently placed one hand on Eddie’s cheek bone, slowly caressing it as to calm the nerves he could tell were radiating off Eddie. He smiled, glancing down very obviously to Eddie’s mouth to ask for permission. Eddie nodded the tiniest goddamn nod in the world and nearly blacked out when Steve’s lips came rushing for his own.
When their lips met, Eddie moaned into it, moving to someone’s bed, he couldn’t tell nor did he care which, and let Steve fall on top of him.
The kisses were messy, clothes were thrown all over the hotel room, and the sex was rough and giggly, but desperate.
And only one time, they decided as they woke up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing at the sheer absurdity that filled the air as they were both wrapped in white sheets.
-
“Uh, Eddie? It’s for you… his name is Steve Harrington?” Eddie pauses, in the middle of hanging a sweater in what seems to be the designated spot for knitwear. A quick assessment tells you that you now have more sweaters than you need, observing them all hung delicately by his hands.
“No way.” Eddie mutters, a smile slowly creeping up on his face. He jogs right past you to the hallway and down the stairs, the quick thumping of his feet loud in the silence of the house.
Your brain takes a moment to catch up to you, following Eddie’s lead back down the stairs. As the front entrance comes into view halfway down the stairs, you see the two men wrapped up in a genuine embrace, arms flexed as they hug one another. They separate, but not by much, maintaining only a few feet between them.
“You didn’t tell me when you were coming!” Eddie accuses playfully, patting Steve on his shoulder.
Steve’s hands are on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, I ended up coming 2 weeks early.”
“No shit, hey?” Eddie leans back, crossing his arms.
They fall into a conversation so easily that their comfort with one another radiates off them. You would be offended Eddie hasn’t introduced you to him yet if it weren’t for their entertaining back and forth with one another.
“How long have you two known each other?” You mistakenly interrupt them, cutting off the conversation.
“Uh, since high school.” Eddie answers, elbowing Steve.
Steve’s eyes widen deliriously, jerking back at the neck. “Uh, try Jr. High.” He laughs. “Eddie here was the new kid.” He seems to laugh at the memory of young Eddie. Man, you’ll need photographic proof. “The weird-o new kid.”
“Oh, sorry my mom abandoned me, Steve.” Eddie laughs, not a lick of remorse behind it. You gulp, your heartstrings pulled at his throwaway comment.
“Abandonment issues can forgive weirdness only for so long, Eddie.”
“Yeah, but I got it renewed fifteen years ago. Didn’t even have to ask, she just did it for me.”
There’s a moment of silence until they break into laughter, poking fun at one another.
“I’m so sorry, who’s this?” Steve gestures to you, walking over to where you’re standing by the stairs.
“Oh, I’m Y/N.” You hold your hand out to him, somewhat nervous to be meeting someone who’s known Eddie for so long. Decades long before you were even born.
Steve’s hand meets yours and shakes it gracefully, his kind chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. “He paying you well?”  You’re not sure how to answer this, your hand still holding Steve’s as you and Eddie give another a look of confusion. “Oh, sorry. You must be Dylan’s girlfriend! Where is he off to, anyway?” Steve lets go of your hand.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember I told you I was seeing someone?” You smile to yourself under the mere indication that Eddie talked to someone about you.
Steve nods, remembering the life in Eddie’s voice when he called. “Yep.”
Eddie points to you, gesturing multiple times until Steve finally gets the hint. “Oh…oh. Oh!” Steve’s hands move back to his hips, his eyes switching back and forth between you and Eddie quickly. “But she’s a child.” Steve deadpans, pointing to you and furrowing his brows at Eddie.
Eddie chuckles, placing his arm around you as Steve takes it in. You’re slightly offended on your own behalf at the prospect of being called a child. Eddie places a kiss on your temple to ease the tension, making you melt into it. “No, she’s not.”
You tilt your head back at Eddie, giving him a sleepy smile, eyes half closed. He kisses you as if to put the final nail in the coffin in any disbelief Steve might’ve had. You breathe deeply as he pulls away, and goddamn, did you have a long day today.
“Wait until Robin hears you’re dating someone half your age.” Steve muses, shaking his head. “She’s gonna have a field day.”
“Wait till she hears we’re already shacked up.” Eddie jokes, bringing you to the couch and therefore leading Steve as well.
As you sit down on the couch, you cuddle into him, head laying down on his chest. Steve asks how his shop is doing, to which Eddie gives the run down on the nicest cars he’s seen and a customer’s hunk of junk he couldn’t believe was still driving around. Steve explains the logistics of his job, and by the tone of Eddie’s voice, you could tell he had no idea any of what Steve was saying, but he was being supportive in tone, nonetheless.
“How are the kids?” Eddie asks, and you watch as Steve’s eyes light up in response.
“Oh, they’re great.”
“How old are they?” You ask, a tad curious.
“Uh, Arlo is 24, Nick is 17, Dustin is 15, and Eliza is 4.” Steve riles off, letting his head fall back on the couch. Damn, he sure didn’t look like a dad of four.
“Is Eliza 4 already?” Eddie asks, shaking his head.
“Sure is.” Steve answers, bringing out his phone. He unlocks it, and presumably goes into his photos until passing it over to you and Eddie. “Here. This was from yesterday.”
“Awww.” You let out, seeing the image of a little girl with Steve’s curls playing on a water mat.
“Oh, aww” Eddie lets out, laughing through it. Eliza is adorable, that much is clear. But as you look up at Eddie scrolling through a few of the photos of Eliza playing in the water, the hearts in his eyes are undeniable. He laughs softly at them, as if he can’t get enough of any of the photos. As Eddie passes the photos with his praises of Eliza, a stirring gut feeling sits there, a feeling you’ve been proud that you’ve been able to hold off with Eddie already having a grown child.
Goddamn, you wanted to have this man’s babies. Or at least, baby. The idea of him looking this sweetly at a child you made together invades your heart and makes you squirm on his chest a bit. You lean off his chest, afraid of these strong feelings of wanting this much of a future with him; it was a little scary. “I’m sleepy. Been a long day, I’m gonna go take a nap.”
“Alright, here.” He gets up with you, taking your hand and walking you around the couch. “Be right back, Steve.”
Eddie goes up the stairs to your room, escorting you to your now shared bed. Last week it had dark grey sheets. Now it has your favourite yellow daisy-themed sheets that Eddie insisted upon using. You lie down, still thinking of the way his eyes lit up and the smile that took over his face from the pictures. It made something stir in you. You were exhausted from your long day, that was no lie, but needed the excuse to leave before you did something crazy.
Like riding him on the couch. (And begging for his babies)
“Have a good sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” He kisses your forehead, soft and sweet. “Love you.”
“Love you.” You mutter through your breath, eyes already closing.
-
You’re already fast asleep by the time Eddie closes the door. As he reaches the bottom of the steps, Steve looks up at him expectantly, his brow slightly furrowed. He’s concerned, and to be fair, he has a reason to be. “So, we’re dating 20-year-olds, now?”
Eddie bites his tongue from correcting your age. “I guess you could say that.”
“What is this, some sort of midlife crisis? Get a red sports car, not someone who beats my oldest by months, hell your kid by months. I mean, come on, man. Use your brain.” Steve taps his shoulder on the last sentence, surely thinking he’s putting Eddie’s head back on right. However, Eddie just sits through the lecture without defending himself so he can say his piece when the time comes. “I-I mean where did you even find her, on her way to school?”
The front door slams. Dylan’s home. “Dad, am I tripping or is Uncle Steve’s car out front—Hey!” He cuts himself off, jogging toward them as soon as he sees Steve on the couch. Steve stands up to give him a tight hug, having known Dylan since the day he was born. “What’re you doing here?”
“Came by for a visit, turns out your dad’s having a midlife crisis.”
Dylan’s brows pinch together as he glances around Steve to Eddie for clarification. Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to know a single thing Steve was talking about. “What, did he get a sports car or something? He says they look pretty but they’re not made to last.”
“No, no. I was talking about his pretty new girlfriend.” The pang of possessiveness that hits Eddie in the chest is unprecedented for Steve just calling you pretty.
Dylan hardly holds in his laughter, walking into the kitchen before a full-on laugh escapes his throat. Steve stares off at him, glancing at Eddie and clearly asking, what the hell is wrong with that boy? Dylan makes himself calm down, coming back into the living room with a shit eating grin on his face. “So did he tell you how they met?”
“N-no.” Steve hesitates based on the grin on his face.
“He hasn’t let me get that far, yet.” Eddie chimes in, looking a little cozy as he settles into the couch. You were right, it has been a long ass day.
“I’m gonna tell him.” It wasn’t a threat per se, Dylan just wanted to watch the panic in his dad’s eyes.
Eddie lifts his head off the back pillow of the couch, having been looking up at the ceiling. “He’s gonna find out eventually. I was just gonna wait until she woke up.”
“Tell me…what?” Steve asks, tired of watching Eddie and Dylan’s back and forth.
Dylan gives one last chuckle, the laughter telling Eddie it’s not something he’s very bitter about anymore. They still haven’t talked about it; he’s been waiting for Dylan to come to him. “She was my girlfriend, first.” Dylan says through a smirk. “She cheated on me. With dad.”
Steve processes it, both Dylan and Eddie can see the hamster wheel turning in his head. He looks back and forth between Dylan and Eddie, his eyes staying on either one for a moment. His eyes don’t blink the entire time, switching back and forth for a solid minute.
“Dude!” Steve finally says, landing on Eddie. “What the fuck happened, Ed?”
Dylan continues laughing, walking over to his dad. “Yeah dad, what happened?”
Eddie lets his head fall back on the pillows again, closing his eyes for a brief second. “Well, I tried to keep my distance…she did not.” Shit, that’s putting all the blame on you. “I wasn’t strong enough to tell her to break up with Dylan, first. Felt like I was seventeen years old, hormones just raging to a point where I couldn’t think straight with her right there.” He gets up from the couch, walking up to his closest friend of 30+ years. “She’s not just some 25-year-old, Steve. This girl, Steve, she’s everything, and somehow, she’s convinced that she’s the lucky one.”
When his dad spews cheesy shit like this it certainly softens the blow. Feels funny that he ever dated you in the first place at times.
Steve seems to miss the fact that Dylan has gotten almost completely over it by now. “That’s all good and nice, but I think you’re missing the fact that you stole your son’s girlfriend?”
Dylan lets out another laugh, wishing Steve was here when everything went down. That would’ve been a show. “Listen, Uncle Steve. I appreciate you standing up for me, truly, I do. If you were here three weeks ago when they fucked in my truck, then that would’ve been…just great.”
“You fucked in his tru—”
Dylan cuts him off, “But honestly, I didn’t date her for very long. If anything, I had only begun to develop some deeper feelings for her, but these two had it right away. They’re good together. I wish they could’ve just told me their feelings and then slept together, but with Maya…if she was dating one of my boys I would’ve done the same thing.”
Steve’s hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, seeing the truth in his statement. “Well, you’ll have to tell me about Maya, then.” He turns back to Eddie, a pinch appearing back between his brows. “But seriously, you fucked in his truck? What kind of sicko are you?”
“His was unlocked. He knows better.” Eddie shrugs, Steve rolls his eyes fondly.
“Good god, man.”
“I was actually just here to grab something, but I’ll see you for supper?” Dylan shoots, mid stride towards the stairs.
“We’re eating out, be back by 8:30.” Steve calls up, and Dylan waves his hand in acknowledgement.
“We are?” Eddie asks, sitting back on the couch.
“Oh yeah, Munson.” He sits on the cushion beside him, leaning onto his knees. “But tell me about her. Sorry I just assumed…but Robin will absolutely be calling you to rip your head off.”
“Or…she can find out in person one day.”
“Like at your wedding?” Steve teases, but lets out a burst of laughter when the blush appears on his cheeks. “Seriously, you hear wedding bells?”
“I’m not getting any younger, dude. But my hormones are, man, she has me doing multiple rounds, sometimes more than one a day!” Steve’s eyes widen, intrigued by this. “I haven’t fucked like this since my 20s.” Eddie pauses, thinking about his sex life back then. “I’m not even sure I fucked like this in my 20’s, to be honest.”
Steve lets out a laugh, shoving Eddie for good measure. Of course, being men, they both skip over the fact that yes, Eddie has had wedding bells in his head enough to start looking at rings…and go for the sex talk.
“Okay, sex aside. Tell me about her.”
It takes only five minutes of Steve listening to Eddie ramble on about you to realize it absolutely was the real deal. No mid-life crises here. Eddie seemed calm and laxed, whereas his ex always made him wired. For the record, Steve never quite liked her. She had Eddie looking like a wet chihuahua, yapping at every drop of a hat. Steve was a little relieved when she left, ‘cause no one could convince Eddie she was not good for him.
Turns out he just needed to wait a few years. 15, in fact.
-
You wake up to the feeling of Eddie’s hand on your cheek, carefully petting you as he places gentle kisses on your lips. “Baby.” He mumbles, causing you to stir. “Baby, wake up.”
As you start to wake up, you become increasingly aware that he was lying right behind you. “Mmm.”
“C’mon, we’re going out for supper with Steve, you have to get up.”  
Still reeling from the dream that you were just ripped out of, you arch your back slightly, grinding your ass against Eddie’s instantly-hardening cock. You hear a sharp inhale, Eddie’s grip on your hip intensifying. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we literally don’t have time.” Eddie comments, his forehead falling onto the back of your head in an act of self discipline.
You frown, giving a good hip swivel. “We always have time.”
“Not today, you don’t! Get up!” You pop awake, aware of Steve’s presence in the hallway as he overshadows Eddie, waking you up more fully.
“He knows me enough to know I’d try to sneak something in.” Eddie murmurs, as not to be heard.
You turn around in your bed, now lying face to face with him, a devious smile creeping on your face. “So, sneak something in.”
Eddie’s brows lift at your suggestive tone. “Fuck.” He mutters, crawling out of bed before you could give his neck one of those licks that just melts him into a puddle. “C’mon baby. Get all dressed up, meet you downstairs by 8:30.”
Your teeth grit together, grabbing your phone that was tossed haphazardly aside when you fell asleep. The screen illuminates itself and your eyes widen when you realize you only have…fifteen minutes to get ready. Well, why didn’t he just say that?
You rush into your closet, and for the first time, the amount of clothes you now own settles in. How the fuck are you ever getting ready ever again? You go to the dresses, skimming through the more family friendly options. You trail  over each hanger one at a time until you reach the right one. Some light makeup is done, a five-minute routine.
You finally reach the bottom step at 8:29 pm, all the guys sitting on the couch watching the tv. “Ready!”
Eddie glances at you and breaks into a smirk. “You look great, sweetheart.”
Your face heats up as you find a pair of shoes that won’t make you hate yourself. You smile, recalling your afternoon in the crowded dressing room. “Thanks, Ed.”
Meanwhile, Steve takes only two seconds as he witnesses this interaction to realize. “No. Go change.”
“W-what?” You stutter, not used to Steve’s blunt stature.
“I-just-just go change. I don’t need to be watching this all night!”
“Fine.” You roll your eyes, kicking your shoe off to put on a dress that Eddie didn’t salivate over that very afternoon.
“Wait, what? What was wrong with the dress?” Dylan asks Steve, not having a clue as to what just transpired.
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
“Hey, Dyl, you remember that green little dress that she had?” Eddie asks, recalling it on his carpeted floor earlier that day before he burned it.
Dylan smiles, then recalls what was so special about the dress. “Oh.” He mumbles, now feeling uncomfortable.
“I think she’s overwhelmed with choices, which is why she picked the dress in the first place. I’ll go help. Meet you there.”
-
Steve put up a fight on just meeting you there, but one on one time with his boy is something he wouldn’t pass up. Especially when he talks about a girl the way he did about Maya.
Eddie didn’t give Steve much of an option, still trying to get rid of the hard on that he had. He bursts through the bedroom and closet door, and as he does so, the front door slams shut. Eddie walks in to you staring aimlessly in your underwear at the dresses, not knowing which one to put on. Eddie comes from behind you, placing his stubbly chin onto your shoulder. “What’s up, baby?” He asks, casually drifting your underwear down your legs.  
You sigh, the trail of his fingertips sending shivers up your spine. “You got me too many dresses.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eddie says, you hear and feel behind you as he lets his own pants drop. “Bend a little bit.” He whispers as you feel his hard cock against your ass.
You do, lifting your ass up at an angle where he can slide right into your folds. He does, arms drifting below your torso and up to play with your tits as he fucks you from behind.
“I got the perfect amount for my sweet baby.” He mutters into your ear, both his hands doing things to your tits that make you whimper. “Love to spoil my beautiful girl.”
“Fuck, daddy.” You whine, your heat already so goddamn hot. “Help. Can’t decide on a dress.”
“Here.” Ed pauses, causing you to whine, but puts a dress in front of you. “Wear this one for daddy.”
“O-ok.” You stutter, barely paying attention to it. “Love you, daddy.”
“I love you,” he kisses your neck, wet and sweet, “so much, pretty baby.” You turn your head to face him, leaning in for a delicate kiss, your pussy clenching around him as you do.
You lean onto the white walls separating each compartment of the closet, closing your eyes as he fucks into you. “Daddy,” you whine, and he pulls your hair gently in response, bringing your head back to his.
“Yes, baby?”
“You’re so good to me, I’m so-so close.” You pant, giving him lustful eyes.
“Cum with me,” Eddie mutters, having been close himself a few times. He leans down, rubbing at your clit. You cum around him hard, yelling his name.
He catches your lips in a kiss when he cums, so you have no idea what he said.
He lets you catch your breath, wrapping his arms around you protectively until you let him know you’re okay. “Thank you, baby.”
“Oh that was just a spur of the moment, I just got lucky.” He jokes, bringing up the dress to you to get redressed.
“You think Steve—”
“Oh, I guarantee Steve already knows.” Eddie interrupts your worry, that Steve knew you were hooking up. “Just had to be sneaky.”
You put yourself in the dress, staring at it in the mirror. Okay, Eddie is seriously good at picking things that fit you well. Damn. “Let’s go baby.”
“Fuck, with you in that dress I’ll be gunning for round two all night.”
“Then we better go so we can come back and do it!” You assert playfully.
“Fuck, I love you.”
-
As you and Eddie sit down at the table where your ice cubes are already melted with the water droplets making a pool on the table, Steve doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives says enough. If he’s your boyfriend’s best friend, how come he already has the ability to make you feel like you had disappointed him?
The restaurant is a steakhouse, something worth dressing up for, but not like the one Eddie took you to. Steve managed to talk about all his kids, describing each one of the four and their distinct personalities to you.
Arlo is apparently a near carbon copy of his father, only differing on a few personality quirks here and there. He was in every sense of the word the eldest Harrington, making a reputation for the Harrington children to live up to at the daycare, elementary school and finally, but most importantly, high school.  Considering Steve raised his kids in Hawkins, Arlo knew the expectations for him and met them, tenfold. Steve never says it, but you can tell he’s so proud of how cool his kid turned out to be. Apparently, though they were closest in age, Dylan was closer to Nicky than to Arlo.
Nicky was the middle child for most of his life. He still considers himself to be, despite getting a younger sister four years ago. He had found himself gravitating towards the arts, and Steve found himself with a kid who spent his early mornings watching broadway bootlegs and collecting song books. This turned him into somewhat of a ladies’ man like Arlo, his baritone vibrato beautifully toned as he starred in most of his school musicals. Someday, Arlo wants to enroll in a drama school, and Steve still isn’t sure how he feels about it.
Dustin is the third child, and for a while, the baby. It’s explained to you that Dustin is named after a mutual friend, someone younger than both Eddie and Steve, someone they took under their wing and mutually adopted. When Dustin’s name was announced, Steve and his wife made sure he was in the room, so for the first hour of Dustin Harrington’s life, he was unnamed. Tears streamed down Dustin’s, (the original), face when he realized that Steve had named his child after him. Immediately, Dustin was his. Because of Dustin Henderson, Dustin Harrington is a complete dork. He’s completely invested in Star Wars, has built his own Magic the Gathering deck, used to spend weekends on Skype for DnD sessions with Uncle Eddie, and has even been to a convention or two.
Basically, none of his boys were the same.
You resented little Eliza coming up in conversation, only for the sake of her photos enticing some sick and cruel twist of fate.
Eliza, however, is the apple of everyone’s eye, and the darling of the Harrington family. She’s a handful, to say the least, a stubborn personality and even worse temperament. Steve swears he thought her toddler years were a handful; until she reached the independent thinking stage. Now, she wants everything, but she never wants help. Her three brothers are fiercely protective of her, each in their own ways, on top of having her dad, her uncle Eddie, and a few names that aren’t familiar to you (note: ask Eddie who ‘Hopper’ is), she’s got the world wrapped around her pinky.
Steve is at the end of a tale of chasing little Eliza around the mall, having slipped his grip in a quick getaway, creating havoc as she clutched a teddy bear that wasn’t paid for. He laughs fondly, describing how she evaded three security guards attempting to aid Steve in his mission, finally catching her when she was hungry enough to decide to end the chase.
You all sit with your food in front of you, chuckling at Steve’s well-told story. “Man,” Eddie starts, mouth still full. He waits until he swallows to continue, “I don’t know if I could have a toddler now. Especially if they’re as wild as Dylan was.”
“Hey!” Dylan calls, gesturing to himself. “I’m right here!”
“No offense, kid, but you were a menace. I looked away for two seconds once and found you on the roof with an umbrella to see if it would work as a parachute.”
“You remember what you told me?” Dylan challenges him, leaning onto his elbows on the table. “Hmm? You tell her what you told me.”
You perk up, leaning into Eddie. “Well, I came out and asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to see if it worked.”
“And…you said?” Dylan asks, eager to get to the punchline.
“I told him to try it then and see how it works out for him!”
“So, I did!” Dylan exclaims, exasperated.
“What?” You exclaim, and the three men around you nod their heads solemnly, all having heard this story several times before.
“I didn’t know he was actually going to do it!” Eddie laughs, defending himself at your bug eyes aimed at him.
“You’re my dad, I trusted you had my best interests at heart!”
“How you didn’t know sarcasm before that is beyond me…” Eddie mutters, shaking his head fondly at his son. “That story was used against me several times in court, too.”
“They tried to make him out to be a terrible parent. I was pissed.” Dylan explains, and your heart melts over it. “I maintained that even though I had a cast for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn my lesson. Don’t jump off the roof. You will get hurt. That’s what my dad was telling me before he dared me.”
You intertwine your fingers with Eddie’s, smoothing his thumb with your own. There’s a nagging in the back of your mind as you recall his claims of being too old for a toddler, a slight disappointment. You shove it far, far back into your brain, not wanting to dissect that. “So, you staying the night, or?” You ask Steve.
“No thanks, Dylan has made it clear that you two are insatiable.” He says, toying with his food. “He has told me every story where he has caught you, even the ones you don’t know about.” He pauses, giving Eddie a resigned glance across the table. “Freaks. The both of you.”
Your phone buzzes on the table, and you reach for it momentarily to check out the text from Bethany. As your attention is stolen, Eddie mouths over you, Jealous? Steve spurts out a laugh, as if the idea is so absurd. Your head shoots up, Bethany’s text is fresh on your mind. “Baby, can…can I take a picture of your hand?”
“Uh, sure.” Eddie agrees, placing his hand out from your grip and onto the table. “What for?”
“For my Insta,” you answer, somewhat preoccupied by getting a good angle while making his hand intertwined with yours look natural.
“Oh, soft launch?” Dylan comments, and you snap your fingers in confirmation.
Eddie chuckles, all the words coming out of you and Dylan sounding like a different language. “What?”
“Okay, so it’s not just me!” Steve laughs, holding his chest dramatically. “Seriously, what are you two on about?”
Dylan answers before you can–  you’re still trying to get a good angle of his hand holding yours on the table. “It’s posting an update to your relationship status without giving a name to the person. It’s telling the world you’re taken, but not by who. Usually in case they break up, but I don’t think it’s why she’s doing it.”
“No, Eddie has no social media and I know…” you pause, leaning back to take one more, “that he wants to keep it that way, so, I’m showing him off in my own way.” You glare at your phone, swearing softly when it still doesn’t look right.
“For fucks’ sake, let me,” Dylan snatches your phone and gets up from the booth, squats and places the phone as if you were the one taking it yourself, snaps a photo, and tosses the phone back to you. “There.”
The phone falls past your hand and into your lap. You gently pick it up, assessing the photo in your recents. Damn. It was the exact vibe you were looking for. “Well, thanks.”
Dylan shoots an eye roll back, his heart not really in it.
“Let’s see?” Eddie asks, leaning into you, resting his chin against the strap of your dress on your shoulder. You’ve already captioned and posted the photo onto your Instagram, so you let him view the screen. He lets out a chuckle, a wide grin appearing on his face. “I like the photo, but what does the caption mean? Greater than what?”
Caption reads, ‘Him>’.
“Oh, it just means you’re ‘greater than’ everything else. There is no one thing to put because it would be useless.” You explain, turning your phone off and placing it face down on the table.
Eddie shifts the two of you so he can see your face, eyes switching between yours as he assesses you. You look up at him, curious to what could possibly be on that brain of his. “You think I’m greater than everything else?”
Of course you’ve seen it plastered on social media sites, somewhat of a common way to refer to your personal opinion of something. It’s so normalized, and you figured it was a simple way to announce that you were taken by the finest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You nod, “Of course!”
His hand frames your face and suddenly his lips are on yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as the kiss and the pure love you feel in his reaction makes you feel like you’d be knocked off your feet if you weren’t already sitting down. Your limbs catch up and one hand lands on his thigh, ignoring the subtle heat you feel pooling in your cunt.
Steve and Dylan are forgotten as you get caught up in a frenzy, lips locking with a level of need for one another that would give any other person envy over the display of passion. Dylan has gotten used to it, you two were in the habit of kissing one another like this often. Steve takes a large sip of his bourbon, leaning back in his booth and leaning right to him. “So, this—”
“Yeah, that’s normal.” Dylan tells him.
“Jesus, I thought you were exaggerating.” Steve pauses, moving his plate away from him, all done. “Thought he was exaggerating.”
“Exaggerating what?” Dylan asks, afraid of the answer.
Steve smirks, taking another sip of his drink. “Just drink your apple juice.” He nods to Dylan’s beer; Dylan shoves his shoulder fondly in response. Steve takes one last big swig of his drink, gesturing to the waitress across the room for her assistance. “Hey. You two. Take a breather.”
Your kisses haven’t gotten any more intense, though his hand placed gently on your thigh was a tease. You could make out with him for hours, knowing your limits in the restaurant booth. Eddie finally pulls back, kissing you delicately a few times on the lips as to not leave you hanging, leaving you reeling when the server stops by.
“Just the check, please.” Steve tells her, smug.
The waitress nods, grabbing plates when the four of you insist you’re all done with your food. Steve and Eddie end up telling a story from their early 20’s when they were both single, finishing each other’s sentences as they remind each other how unruly they were back then. Your eyes flick back and forth between them, something clicking.
“Hmm.” You muster, letting yourself think about it.
“Yes, baby?”
You zone back in, blinking as you realize the three of them are staring at you expectantly. You hadn’t even realized you hummed out loud. “Oh, nothing.” But he’s not budging. None of them are. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”
Still no dice.
You lean forward towards Dylan, who sits across from you, lowering your voice. “Do you want to be traumatized by your dad’s sex life?” He shakes his head, the smile leaving his face. You lean back, satisfied. “Then don’t worry about it.”
“For the record, I think you mean more traumatized.” Dylan mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. You kick his shin underneath the table, light enough to hurt but not do anything. You giggle at his reaction, leaning into Eddie’s arm as it snakes around your own.
Your phone buzzes, another text from Bethany. You smile as you check it, content in Eddie’s arms as the waitress comes around again with the bill. Steve hands her a card as he watches Eddie speak softly to you, nothing important, just something causing you to giggle. He feels confident in his own marriage, a love that gave him four kids with a stable home to drive back to. It just made him happy to see Eddie in a relationship where it’s clearly reciprocated.
As Eddie whispers to you, you can barely take in the words Bethany has texted you, but what she has to say to you is seemingly important, your phone buzzing repeatedly in your hands. You allow your eyes to focus back on them and the all-caps of her texts become clear.
CHECK YOUR INSTA
HELLO???
BABE
HELLO
GO CHECK IT YOUR POST ALREADY HAS OVER 500 LIKES
BITCH IT’S AT ONE THOUSAND
HELLLLOOOO
“Oh, shit.” You switch apps to make sure it’s true. In your notifications, there are over 300 comments and more likes than Bethany had claimed, 1.5 thousand. By no means is it viral, but most of your posts got no more than 100 due to your circle of friends in the app being so small. “Holy shit.” There are several comments praising Eddie’s hand, even some drool emojis. The only solace you can give yourself is that you now know you are never exposing his face. “Um, Ed. Your hand has gotten attention.”
He leans over, seeing the amount of engagement on your post. “Cool.” He comments, the numbers not meaning much to him.
“I could’ve told you that much.” Steve laughs.
You peer at him questioningly, silently asking what he meant by it.
“Listen, the ladies in Hawkins are…what is it…thirsty?” He checks with Dylan. Dylan chuckles and confirms it. “Yeah, okay, thirsty. They are mad thirsty over Eddie. If I accidentally mention that the Munsons are coming into town, it becomes town gossip. It’s like Billy Hargrove all over again, except this time it’s age appropriate.”
You turn back to Eddie, serious as you can be. “You’re never going back.”
 He laughs, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it.”
-
As you walk towards the front door of the restaurant, the sun has set on another day. Eddie’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and Steve calls out to Eddie as he leads you to his truck, drawing your attentions. “Munson!”
Eddie turns around, the use of his last name certainly grabbing his attention. They quit using last names on one another years ago. The last time Eddie fully recalls being called Munson by Steve; Steve was pulling at his hair… “You rang, Harrington?”
“Can I steal your girlfriend for a drive?” He asks, sending a smile your way.
“Uh,” Eddie looks at you, making sure you’re comfortable with it. You nod your head, sharing a look with him. “Sure. Have her back within the hour, though.”
“Yes, sir.” Steve jokes, laughing to himself when Eddie subtly grits his teeth, and a pink blush reaches his cheeks. “C’mon, I don’t bite.”
You give your boyfriend a hug, embracing his kiss of safety and comfort. “Love you.” As you walk the steps toward Steve, Eddie tugs you back by your fingertips, one last kiss for good measure.
“Love you more.” He mutters, and for a second you believe him. Oh, to follow him into his truck and ride with him in a comfortable silence on the way back.
“Come on! One hour won’t kill you.” Steve grabs your hand before you can register, leading the way to his SUV.
Dylan passes you on the way to his dad, waving cheekily on the way and you flip him off.
You get into the dark blue SUV, a Range Rover, no less. It’s evident he has a four-year-old with the car seat and the mess in his back seat, but you know that if he didn’t have Eliza, the brown interior would’ve been spotless. Steve turns down the radio he had blasting, turning his iPhone connection on. “Ready for some oldies?”
“You and Eddie. Terrible, the both of you.” You mutter, shaking your head.
Steve laughs, pulling out of the parking lot and turning the opposite way of Eddie’s (yours too) house. “Don’t worry, just taking the long way.” He assures you after he sees you staring wistfully off at Eddie’s tail lights.
It’s about five minutes of silence until Steve talks again. “So, I just wanted to apologize about earlier, I was…I was shocked. When you opened the door, I didn’t know who you were, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the answer I got. Can you tell me your version of how you two got together? I didn’t want Eddie interjecting.”
“Oh.” You clear your throat. “Uh, Dylan forgot a parking pass on our way to the beach, so he stopped by the house to look for it. Eddie comes down, sweats low on his hips and hair still wet from his shower, and I could barely focus on anything else around me. I should’ve broken up with Dylan the moment I got to his truck.” You tell him, making sure Steve knows full well that you are still apologetic about the cheating.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s all fine and dandy. As far as Dylan is concerned, it hurt, but it’s long gone in his mind. Trust me. Any hesitation is aimed at Eddie, and for good reason.” Steve reassures you, feeling your defense build. “Don’t worry. Just tell the story.”
“Okay. I didn’t end it because I was afraid he’d lash out and it would’ve been forever before getting ahold of Eddie again. I couldn’t risk it, so I stayed. It lasted until that weekend, when I was doing horny things in the living room with Dylan just because Eddie was home. Maybe he’d hear something, maybe he’d look…maybe he’d watch…” You drift off, remembering the sheer urgency you had for him. “I wore skimpy outfits, I bent over around the house, I was fully prepared for Eddie, and to be honest, I was too hormonal to care or understand the repercussions.” You glance out the window, lights blinding you as you pass each neon sign. “So, we hooked up. After spending more time with him, I realized how much I had already cared about him. Now, Steve, now, I love that man so goddamn much.”
Steve smiles at you as he drives, his head waving with the bumps in the road. “Where do you see this going? For your future? In the long term, are you willing to accept that his body will give out a lot earlier than yours?”
 A knot forms in your stomach in the shape of a confession. You switch your glance to Steve, and you feel safe with him. Not like Eddie, no. It was like he would never tell your secrets, or like he’d protect you. “Uh, this evening, I had the terrifying displeasure of realizing one day I’d want kids with him. One day, after he marries me and tells the whole world who I belong to, I want to have his baby. I want to raise a baby into a handful of a toddler into a snarky teenager. I thought I was totally in the clear for kids with him, but you showed him the video of Eliza and now it’s…I can’t get rid of it. So, thanks for that, Steve.” Admitting to this, out loud even…it’s too much. “I want to spend my life with him.”
You wait for an answer, somewhat on edge as you fiddle with your fingers. “And you’re okay with the knowledge that you will bury him one day?” Steve pressures on, and you respect it.
“I’ve accepted the realities, yes, which is why I’m not telling him I want kids. He said he’s too tired. I can’t force that on him.”
A full belly laugh escapes Steve as he shakes his head. “If you told him that you want a baby, he would absolutely give you one without a moment’s hesitation. I have never seen him like this, not even with his ex.” He pauses, thinking on how to tell you. “Listen, I don’t know if you know much about her, but Eddie’s ex was not all that…kind to him.” He chooses his words carefully. “He was into her from the get-go, but it was obvious he was more into her. Eventually, when Eddie realized she was cheating, he called me, panicking about losing Dylan.
“I sent my best lawyer to him. Less than a week later they have court dates for custody hearings. Honestly, she was angry she was caught and angry she wasn’t the one to file. I think it took her being angry and belligerent in court for Eddie to finally see who she was. The judge was patient, more than she should’ve been. When she didn’t listen to the judge’s warnings, Eddie was granted everything he wanted. He thought it was a goddamn miracle, the only two things he wanted were the shop and Dylan. The shop had people’s livelihoods; it was their only income. Dylan just wanted to be with his dad, he made that very clear.
“Once the dust settled, it sank in. He called, finally, crying on the floor of the closet. He had spent all year on it just for her to only have it for a handful of months. It was a labour of love for him, and it turned out she was sleeping with someone else the entire time.”
Your teeth grit, fucking seething for Eddie. If either Eddie or Steve knew what was good for her, they’d never tell you her name.
“I came immediately, bringing Arlo and Nick to help cheer him up. Nick was only about 2, so he would’ve done more cheering in the way that toddlers do. But even Arlo knew something was up so it’s the one and only time he’s ever played DnD and fully embraced it. When Nick went to bed, the four of us all played together.” Steve observes your body language, your jaw locked and fists clenched. You’re so angry for him. He decides to omit the fact that after the kids went to bed, Eddie was inconsolable in his heartbreak. Steve knows it might come out one day, but that was not the point of this discussion.
“I promise, I didn’t tell you to make you mad, I just need you to know that Eddie will love you selflessly and wholly, because he doesn’t have it in himself to love any other way.” He slows to a stop at a red light, turning his head to face you. “I was very worried at first, but man, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
The question still echoes in your mind, but the answer is starting to lean towards a yes. “How did you guys become friends?” You ask instead, leaning away from your boyfriend’s heartbreak and his bitchy ex.
“That… is a very long story.”
“Eddie gave you an hour, of which you’ve only used 15 minutes.” You point out, smirking.
“Alright, buckle up. It’s Hawkins, Indiana. 1996. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson is missing.”
-
Steve was right, the story of their friendship was a long one. He didn’t necessarily dive into the nitty gritty, just implied he was falsely accused in a situation where he had no alibi and helped him out. One day, years later you would finally feel comfortable asking and Eddie would get into the full details of the Upside Down.
Steve brought you home with ten minutes to spare, you cling to Eddie as soon as you see him. The unresolved lust from earlier on top of the empathy for how hard it must’ve been for him drove your need for him, just you and him. “Can’t wait any longer.” You whisper, fingers digging into the now open button up shirt he wore to dinner and fisting the material into a ball with your hands.
You feel a huff of silent laughter come from him, a long sigh leaving his lips as he considers his options. It’s only 11 o’clock. Usually, when Steve is in town he stays for hours into the night to talk and laugh together. Dylan started a habit of joining their conversations as he got older. He knows it’s what they’re expecting, and he knows exactly what you need. He lifts your face with his hands. “Go get dressed into something more comfortable. Be right up.”
You nod, feeling sleepy, and for once, not conscious of the audience you held with him.
As you run upstairs, Eddie turns to Steve. “You and Dylan go to your hotel room. I’ll meet you there. Later.”
Steve’s eyebrows raise. “Didn’t you say you were exhausted?”
“I could just stay home all night. I have no problems with that.” Eddie bites back, a tone of endearment at the root of it.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. God, I miss when you were single,”
Dylan and Steve leave for the hotel room, the two shooting teasing glances at Eddie.
You lay on your side of the bed, scrolling on your phone but only paying the littlest attention. Eddie opens the door, his long legs take him to the bed quickly as he lies right next to you. You immediately crawl into his arms, the phone forgotten. Your chest feels tight as you mentally go over what Steve told you, the way his ex treated him. There’s no way it was true, because Eddie ever feeling like he deserved any of it was too much for you to bear.
Eddie feels the shift in you, something’s different. It isn’t one of your normal hugs. Your arms are wrapped around his, as if you’re sheltering him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, brows furrowed as he notes your quickened breathing and heart rate. You’re lying down; you should be far more relaxed.
“Steve…Steve told me more about your ex, and it made me sick to my stomach.” You admit, not wanting many secrets between the two of you. You’re already harbouring one, you don’t need another. “I don’t know how anyone could possibly treat you like that.”
Eddie’s eyes well and he looks up, trying not to let a tear fall from the tone of your voice or how genuine you sound in your anger for him. “It’s ancient history, now, baby.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” You counter, hands squeezing him. “I love you more than I can even conceive. More than I can wrap my head around… I can’t stand the thought of you being heartbroken because that bitch decided someone building her a closet wasn’t good enough for her.”
Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how loved you just made him feel, and how in your own way, you just told him he would be just as protected as you are by him. You would stand up for him the same way he would for you. He doesn’t have the words or the strength to hold back the tears, so he leans in and kisses you, really kisses you.  
As his lips meet yours, you taste the salt of his tears and lightly use your thumbs to brush them away. He climbs on top of you, brushing his hand under your PJ shirt, testing the waters. You guide his hand to your tit, aching for him to touch you for what felt like hours. Your kisses are slow and purposeful, the stream of the salt still coming, and you ignore it for the sake of his hand feeling so goddamn good on your nipple as he teases you. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about them, anyway. Your mouth opens against him as he flicks it, whimpering.
You wrap your legs around his hips, unwinding them from between his legs and his bulge presses into your covered heat immediately. You kiss down his jaw, gently decorating his neck with wet kisses as you kiss away the salt that streamed down his face. Your hand moves down to palm him through his slacks, a whimper leaving him. “Do…do you want to?” You check, slightly stroking him through his jeans.
He sniffles, bunching up your shirt to help it off. “Yes. Sorry, I can’t handle strong emotions, they…overwhelm me.”
“I’ll handle them for the both of us.” You offer.
Eddie is a mess already, and he tugs on you to kiss you some more. “I didn’t know I could love someone this much.” He mutters, gulping through his kisses.
You don’t answer him, grabbing at his shirt to take it off. As the shirt flies off, his chest comes full contact with yours and you arch your hips up to meet his, the bulge hitting your heat almost too perfectly. You grind on it, needing him now, wanting to feel all of him.
Eddie reads your mind, tearful but still in tune with everything your body needs from him. His hands move your pants down your legs, placing kisses down your torso as he does. He crawls back up to you, taking his own pants off as he continues to wantonly kiss you. Before you know it, you feel his cock against your thigh as he presses your legs into your stomach.
Eddie leans into you, connecting your foreheads. You frame his face, staring at his wet brown eyes. “Please baby.” You kiss him, your hips barely able to stay still. “I love you, I fucking need you.”
“I know.” He mumbles, nodding his head. He guides his cock into you, pushing in gently but deeply into you within seconds. Your legs tighten around his torso, your pussy sucking him in. “Christ.”
His face finds itself in your neck, giving sweet kisses up and down as he starts to move his hips. You hold onto him, hands wrapped around his torso, spread-out palms down on his back. His hips rock so slowly, taking in every inch of your pussy he possibly can. His forehead finds yours again and his eyes open and stare into yours. His mouth is parted, his cheeks are flushed, and no longer wet. Somewhere in the midst he stopped crying, but the emotions he felt were still there. “Feels good?”
You nod, breath hitching by the sheer emotion you see in his eyes. “So good, baby.”
He smiles softly, staring at you half lidded. “Don’t want it harder?” He teases, bucking his hips hard once before moving back to his soft pace.
The buck releases a loud cry of pleasure from you, not expecting it. “Fuck, Ed. Can you do that again?”
Eddie smiles wider. “Mmhm.” He bucks into you harder again a few times, and your eyes close immediately, the heat from your pussy starting to pool. “Oh my god, Eddie.”
“More?” He asks, slowing his hips again. “My love, if you want me to fuck you harder, you need to tell me.”
“Fuck me harder, Ed. Please.”
Eddie chuckles softly, stopping his movements altogether to give you a kiss, taking your breath away by the love in it. “Sure thing, baby.”
Before you know it, his hips start at an unforgiving pace, the force takes you aback so badly, you moan loudly at every buck, every rut of his hips against yours. His thumb connects to your neglected clit, and the subtle heat explodes into a frenzy. Eddie feels your velvet walls pulse around him as you get closer. “I wanna feel that perfect pussy cum all over my cock.”
“Eddie, so close…love you so much…” you’re seeing stars, your legs tense around him. He leans down to you, giving your torso one long lick down your tummy and, oddly enough, it was the final thing to drive you over the edge.
Your pussy tightening around him does it for Eddie, watching your face as your orgasm rips through you, filling you up with his cum, white ropes shooting into you. He collapses on your chest, the physical exhaustion from the day mixed with the added exhaustion from emotionally breaking down finally piling on him. “Sweetheart, I love you. So fucking much. I just…can’t believe how much better you’ve made my life.”
“I love you.” Your entire body wraps around him, holding him close to you. “Do you have to go?”
“Would you like to come with me?”
You nod your head, knowing full well you’ll probably fall asleep on the couch in Steve’s hotel room.
“Alright, let’s go.”
-
Eddie scratches his head while working on some paperwork in his work office, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he goes through some numbers. One of the things he hates about owning a business is the math part of it. Luckily, he’s good at math, it’s just when the numbers suddenly go negative, it creates an issue.
His phone sitting on the desk starts to ring and he picks it up, expecting it to be you, but instead he’s met with an unknown number. Eddie sighs and reluctantly answers. It could be a customer with a new number for all he knows.
Wrong. Dead wrong.
“Eddie Munson speaking.” He answers, scanning over another invoice.
“Why the fuck are you dating a 25-year-old?” It occurs to Eddie this phone number has an area code from Boston…which is where she moved to. Fuck.
“Hi, Brooke.” He sighs, tired.
“Yeah, yeah. When and why the fuck are you dating some little hot piece of ass? You know she’s probably a gold digger, right? This morning she posted a selfie from my closet and it looks like she’s already moved in?”
“We met through a friend” Eddie wraps his head in his hands, wondering what the hell he ever saw in her craziness. “Wait, why am I telling you this, what fucking nerve do you have to call me and accuse my girlfriend being a gold digger?! How the fuck did you even find out?”
“Her little Instagram post with you two holding hands, which by the way, was cheesy and not in a good way. It got a lot of attention and Laura recognized your hands immediately and sent me the post.”
Fucking Laura. “Good for you, you found her Instagram.” He sighs, leaning back in his office chair. “I owe you nothing, Brooke. Nothing. I’m not sure what you had expected from this conversation but I’m sure this wasn’t it. Oh, and Brooke? That’s not your closet, hasn’t been for 15 years. Don’t call me again or I'll get my lawyer.”
“Oh, calm down.” Brooke huffs, her voice agitated. As if her voice had any other tone. Eddie hears her muffle the speaker to her phone. “Boys, quiet down for five minutes? I’m on the phone!” There’s another shuffle of noise on the other end, then her voice is directed back at Eddie, “That won’t be necessary. I just need to make sure you know that she will ruin your life because she’s a little skank.”
“Talk about my wife that way again and you’ll be hearing from a lot more than just my lawyer, you absolute cunt.” Eddie hangs up on her, missing the satisfaction of slamming a phone on the receiver. He picks his work phone up and slams it down. There, much better.
Wait until Steve hears about this… Holy shit.
Wait until you hear about it. Oh, fuck.
-
Steve manages to stretch his visit for one more day, laying on the couch with you as you watch a movie he recommended to you. He lays down with his torso on the arm rest, legs resting on your lap. When his legs landed, you glared at him, asking if he had nowhere else to place them. Steve said in response, “Of course, I do! You’ll just hold them because you’re so nice.”
So, you do. The movie is called The Gentlemen, a fast-paced comedy about a drug lord attempting to sell his business and all the shenanigans that follow. You find yourself laughing with him, expecting some movie like The Godfather or Fight Club, though it came out only four years ago.
Eddie swings open the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a smirk on his face. “Oh my god, Steve. Oh my god.” Eddie came straight from work, the phone call not allowing his brain to go over another invoice, especially when the numbers didn’t make sense. He struts to the couch, lifts Steve’s legs and sits right next to you, placing Steve’s legs back on his lap. He places his arm around you, looking at Steve with a smirk plastered. “Steve. Oh, my god.”
“Ed?” You ask, taking in his flustered features. Not flustered in the way you’re used to, but flustered nonetheless. “Everything okay?”
He nods his head, an incredulous laugh escaping as he does. “Oh, yeah. Totally okay. Got a phone call today.” You and Steve share a look of concern over his shoulder. “From Brooke.”
Now, this name means nothing to you. But from Steve’s reaction, in a split second you realize it’s the name of the woman you have grown to viscerally hate. “No way. What…what did she say?”
“She found Y/N’s Instagram post from last night and recognized my hand.” Eddie says, squeezing your shoulder. “She uh, then proceeded to insult me, insult her, and remind me how grateful I am she left me before I realized what a terrible person she is.”
“Anything else?” Steve asks, eyes wide. Brooke has literally been radio silent for years.
“Yeah, but nothing worth getting into.” Eddie comments, leaning into the couch, raising his eyebrows at Steve. Not something he wants to get into with you around, but definitely will with his best friend. “She sounded…jealous.”
“Jealous how?”
Eddie looks at you, twisting his body to face you. “Jealous of you. Out of line, absolutely, but jealous.”
The satisfaction that ripples through your body is simply too much. A woman took advantage of his kindness and left him for dead and now she’s jealous? Good. “Wait, she stalks my Instagram?”
“Uh, I suppose, yes.” Eddie answers, not so sure he understands the use of stalk.
“I could have some fun with this.” You mutter, thinking to yourself.
“Baby?” Eddie asks, slightly scared of the wicked smirk he sees displayed on your face.
“Hmm.” You mumble, opening your phone to your Pinterest app. “Yes?”
“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, talking low as he watches over your shoulder.
“Nothing. Just be ready for a picture when I need you.”
Eddie laughs, ready to calm you down a bit, but finds himself a little fearful of the plan in your mind.
You scroll through your Pinterest for about ten minutes while Steve and Eddie converse about the boys again. If you have learned one thing about Steve, it’s that his kids are his pride and joy. The conversation leads to Eliza, and you feel that pang in your stomach again. It’s getting harder to ignore as you watch Eddie’s face light up at the endless stories of the kids’ mischief.
Steve gets up from the couch, needing to use the bathroom. While he’s gone, you take advantage, finally having a moment to ask the question that’s been on your mind. “Hey, Ed.” You start, his head turning to face you, almost impossibly close.
“Yes, baby?”
Shit, his lips are so tempting. You sigh, ignoring the pull to his lips. “I just have a question, and please don’t be offended if the answer is no.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pleasantly surprised by your reaction to his ex-wife calling, so he’s certainly intrigued by what you’re about to say. “I make no promises.”
That’s not comforting. “Okay. Have you and Steve…did you guys ever hook up?” You ask, avoiding his eyes, which is impossible because they’re right there.  
Eddie breaks into a smile followed by incredibly contagious laughter. You were certain you must’ve been dead wrong based on his laughter alone. You’re just reading into things that aren’t there. He finally stops, grabbing your face for a smiley, giggly kiss. You pull back, looking at him in confusion, as he laughs again. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He says, eyes searching yours.
Oh, fuck. You were right! “Wait.” You say while giggling. “I…I was right?”
“Yeah.”
“When?!”
Eddie squints comically, looking up. “Uh, 27 or so years ago in Vegas.”
You squint back at the sheer cliché of it all. “Vegas? Really?”
“Well, we were both down on our luck, we thought, very drunkenly, might I add, a trip to Vegas would help. It certainly did the trick, I think.”
You laugh, the situation described much differently than what you had expected. “I bet it did.” You boop him on the nose as he scrunches it adorably.
Steve comes out from the bathroom and sees your silly display of love, jogging to the couch. “You guys are cavity inducing. Seriously.”
“Steve.” Eddie says, turning his head to face him. “She figured it out.”
Steve smirks, silently asking Eddie if he was talking about what Steve thought he was talking about. “Hmm?”
“Mmhmm.”
“No shit! What gave it away?” Steve asks, genuinely curious as he attempts to extend his legs onto Eddie’s lap again.
“No offense, you guys, but you both act like you have a secret with one another that you won’t share with the class. There’re only so many secrets that could be.” You offer an answer, and they seem to accept it…for the most part.
“What, we don’t give off two very straight dudes?” Eddie jokes, making you shove his shoulder.
“See, Dylan’s great, but I’ve been dying to ask since last night, and I wasn’t gonna ask with him around.”
Eddie chuckles, leaning in for one last gentle kiss. When he separates, he clutches onto Steve’s leg, startling him. “Sorry,” he laughs through his apology. “I have to take a shower then I have one more errand to run, and I need your help before you take off tonight.”
“Sure, dude. What do you need?”
You go back on your phone, checking your Pinterest and mostly tuning out the conversation, looking for subtle ways to show Eddie off on your Instagram that will piss Brooke off. Eddie nods his head to indicate it isn’t a conversation to be had around you, and you don’t even notice.
Steve nods in understanding, fist bumping Eddie as he runs around the couch and up the stairs. The silence that settles around you while he’s upstairs is comfortable, Steve paying attention to the movie as the plot thickens while you scroll through your phone and gather devious ideas. You barely notice the ten minutes pass by as Eddie comes back downstairs. You clock the scent of his freshly showered self, causing you to look up.
Eddie is wearing a pair of jeans and a button up loosely tucked in with a chain necklace. You pick your jaw off the floor, gulping as he walks up to you with a smirk on his face as he witnesses your very visible reaction. He lays a chaste kiss on your forehead and taps on Steve’s leg.
Steve gets up from the couch and Eddie grabs his keys. “Be back soon, baby!”
“Could you get some pop?” You ask him as he opens the front door.
“Baby, we have so much to drink that’s not gonna rot those pretty teeth. It won’t kill you to drink water.” He says, stopping in the doorway. You roll your eyes, tempted to order in from a convenience store if he was gonna be this stubborn. “If there’s pop here when I get home, you’re gonna see a consequence.”
“Yes, daddy.” You bite back. Well, if you order one drink and place it in the bottom of the recycling, he won’t see it, right?
“Hey. Drink some water. I mean it. Take care of yourself, for Christ’ sake.” He yells, hearing your eyes roll. “Love you!”
Eddie shuts the door, reminding himself to check the recycling when he gets home.
“Daddy, huh?” Steve asks, poking fun as they get into his truck.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving the keys into the ignition. His hands move to put the vehicle in reverse when something occurs to him. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Uh, give me a sec.” Eddie brings out his phone, going through the 15 contacts, scrolls right to Maya. He rings it.
“…Hello?” Maya answers, sounding understandably perplexed.
“Hi, Maya, how would one know what kind of ring to get without asking the person it’s for?” Steve’s brows rais, the errand being ring shopping is news to him.
“Well… it depends. Do you want to buy her a ring just because…or are you shopping for,” she pauses, slowly saying it. If she was wrong, it could set off an alarm, “…an engagement ring?”
“Yeah, an engagement ring.” Eddie admits, saying it out loud feels crazy to him. “How would one figure that out?”
“Give me five minutes.” She says, and abruptly hangs up the phone.
As Eddie stares at his phone in bewilderment, Steve leans into him. “Engagement ring, huh?”
“Won’t be asking her until at least another few months, if I can even wait that long. I said something on the phone with Brooke today. It just came out.” Eddie offers, his voice soft as he explains to Steve what’s been invading his mind for the last hour. “Brooke went a bit far on the insults. She called her a skank.”
“How classy.” Steve offers dryly, his face suggesting it was anything but.
“I got so mad. I’ve never been as mad at her as I was when those words left her mouth. I said if she ever called my wife a name again, I would be calling more than just my lawyer.” He quotes himself, letting the word sink into Steve’s skin.
“Oh shit.” Steve mutters, the weight of the word kicking in.
“Yeah, it slipped out, but calling her my wife felt so damn good I couldn’t help myself. I’m not getting any younger.” Eddie pauses before saying anything else, the next confession might be too much to say out loud yet.
“C’mon. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?” Steve says, giving him some comfort.
“Her eyes when she looks at pictures of Eliza, or listens to stories about your boys, fuck I thought I never wanted another kid, but Jesus Christ, I need to see her face when she looks at one of ours.” Eddie admits out loud for the first time, the words scaring the shit out of him. Dylan in his 20s was exhausting. Could he handle another newborn? Another toddler? Another teenager?
Steve felt like he held all the power in knowing you two both wanted a kid. Feels like neither of you are ready to tell the other, so it’s a secret he’ll have to keep to himself for now. (If he’s strong enough.)
Eddie’s phone buzzes, a link appearing in a message from Maya. He opens it up and it directs him to your Pinterest page. Eddie wonders how Maya even found it. Your name isn’t connected to it. The link is specific to a board labeled Engagement Rings with a bunch of sparkle emojis surrounding it. Eddie looks at a few of them, screenshotting a handful to get the basic idea of what you’d want. He texts back Maya to thank her and puts his truck in reverse before Steve even knows what’s happening.
-
Eddie and Steve go through at least three jewelry stores before Eddie angers Steve at his indecisiveness. It isn’t that Eddie is indecisive, it’s that he’s hoping for a jeweler to look at the general vibe of your board and have the perfect ring to offer. Instead, Eddie’s met with vague indications of where he could look. These interactions all leave Eddie feeling frustrated as just walks out of the store for the next one only about ten feet away.
It takes Eddie a few tries until he finds the fairy godmother he’s been looking for, but finally he shows an engagement ring specialist the general aura of the rings you had saved, and she brings out four or five options that fall into the same category for Eddie to look at. Maybe Eddie could’ve been clearer with other stores of what he needed, but it felt as if they didn’t think he was going to buy one, anyway. Here, in this store, he feels like a respected customer, which goes a long way with him. In his shop, he spends his extra time making sure his men don’t treat any ladies like they know less just because they’re women. He hoped that even though he had a few faded tattoos and dressed alternatively, he’d be extended that same courtesy.
The helpful sales lady holds up each ring and explains to Eddie why she picked it in relevance to the photos you saved. Eddie sighs, each one in the right field, but not quite there. As she puts rings away to keep on looking, Eddie clutches onto the glass in frustration, feeling completely unprepared. Brooke basically gave him her ring and told him to propose when he had the balls. He wants you to love this ring, he wants to see it and know that it was made for you.
Maybe that’s too much to place on a ring. But for Eddie, just the simple prospect of searching for this ring means he has the hope that you will be his for the rest of his life.
Just when he’s ready to leave for the next store, she brings another one, a look on her face that tells Eddie she might’ve found exactly what he’s been looking for. She lays it out on a cloth, as Eddie marvels at it. It’s a thin, silver ring with four blue stones lined up along the band as the metal crosses over itself like vines. Eddie knows all of the jewelry you wear is silver, dainty, and has a few hints of blue. From the moment he sees it, he knows it’s the One.
Eddie holds it up for a few moments, circling it around in his hand. It takes all the self control in the world not to just head home and propose that night. He hands over a ring he took from the center console in your closet to the sales lady for your size. Within ten minutes, the papers are signed, the ring paid for, and Eddie walks out with a small white bag.
They get into the truck, the white bag small, yet significant as it sits in the back seat. “Well, that’s a step you’re taking.” Steve observes, carefully assessing his best friend’s emotional state.
“Mmhmm.” Eddie hums, staring at the bag in the rearview mirror. “And now, I’m fighting the urge to propose tonight.”
“Tonight?” Steve asks him, the speed of your relationship knocking him in the gut. “Let’s not scare her off. Plan a nice meal, set out a pretty dress on the bed for her. I bet she’d appreciate that.” Eddie considers this, knowing Steve is probably right.
So, now the ring sits in its box in the bottom of Eddie’s underwear drawer.
-
When Eddie and Steve get home, they find you on the couch napping while a movie neither of them has heard of plays on the TV, a bottle of nearly empty coke on the table next to it. Eddie sneaks upstairs to hide the evidence, the bag shoved into the bottom of a trash can, and the ring tucked safely away. When he comes back down, Steve is in the kitchen making himself a snack for the road while Eddie crouches in front of the couch to wake you up.
“Morning, baby.” He says in a low voice, petting your left cheek with his thumb.
Your breath hitches as you wake up, the last thing you remember is being giddy as you picked up your order from the front step with chips, candy, and a single bottle of pop. As you finished most of your snack, the movie started to matter less and less, a phenomenon that only occurs when you know that you’re about to pass out on the couch.
“There she is.” He mumbles as your eyes take in your surroundings. Him, the end of the movie you picked out, and the setting sun through the curtains. “Hi. I see we didn’t take my concern for the amount of pop you consume to heart?” He musters, gesturing to the side table.
You stretch, every muscle in your extended limbs feeling it. “You made it pretty clear it was for my teeth.” You mumble, unable to prevent a smile at Eddie’s floored reaction.
“I see.” He mutters, and the smirk on his face is enough to send a thrill of fear through you. “C’mon, Steve is about to leave town. Let’s go say our goodbyes.”
He tugs on your hands, lifting you up off the couch, guiding you to where Steve’s packing a recyclable grocery store bag with snacks he found around the kitchen. He comes out of the kitchen clutching the bag, his brown eyes shooting a fond look to the both of you. “Sorry, guys. Gotta get to the actual purpose of my trip eventually.”
You squint at him, pretending to consider forgiving him. “I suppose we’ll forgive you. If… you bring Eliza next time.”
“Another one bites the dust.” Steve mutters under his breath, chuckling. Eliza Harrington really has the whole world wrapped around her little pinky. (And oh, boy, does she know it.) He grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you in close for a hug. “Take care of him, will ya?”
You nod into his bicep, the soft spot he had gained for you over the last two days taking you by surprise and vice versa for him. “You know I will.”
Steve can’t resist the joke. “Oh, I know you do.”
You hit him playfully, feeling the heat creep up on your cheeks.
Steve and Eddie share an even longer hug, something about saying goodbye to old friends is always hard, you know that. As they separate, still clutching each other, Steve says something under his breath that makes Eddie hit him harshly. “Steve.”
“What?”
“Dude. Subtlety?”
Steve chuckles as he picks up his bag of goodies. “If you two are one thing, it ain’t subtle.”
You’re left questioning what could’ve possibly warranted the reaction that Eddie let out as Steve and Eddie do a few more rounds of farewell. It never seems to end as they keep bringing up new topics with each step Steve makes toward the door. It reminds you of your mom at the grocery store when you were eight.
The door finally slams, Steve yelling an "I love you" while Eddie shouts “Yeah right!” He brings out his phone soon after, sending I love you, too to Steve as a text. Well, Eddie is realizing that a next time is never guaranteed.  
The moment Steve’s SUV takes off, the low hum of the engine riding off to the end of the street, you turn back to the couch for a night in with Eddie. Alas, he has other plans. You lead him to the couch, holding his hand. Eddie tugs you back sharply, your limbs flailing as a result. “Woah, there, sweetheart.”
You give him a questioning look, wondering if you were just picturing his eyes darkening. “Hmm?”
“I asked you, very nicely, not to order pop. For one thing I think you drink too much of it, and for another there is water, juice, alcohol, even. Baby, I would just appreciate you taking my wishes into account.” His voice is serious, to a point that startles you. “So. As mentioned, there will be a consequence.”
“Like…like what?” You ask him, gulping as he traces his fingers along your collarbone so lightly you barely feel it.
He leans down, leaning into whisper, “Run.”
Your heart rate stutters as you turn away from him and run straight towards the basement, a place you know was once Dylan’s hangout spot, but now is just a dusty living room. Your feet trip over themselves as they run down the steps, pure panic and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run to a guest room, hiding in the corner.
Upstairs, there are footsteps leading directly to the steps you just ran down. He fucking walks. He takes his time, step by step, and you can tell with each step as your heart rate picks up that he’s taunting you. He knows you’re in some corner somewhere, but he just doesn’t know which one. “Downstairs, huh? Didn’t see that coming.” Eddie admits, peering around each corner with his hands behind his back.
Fuck, you’re just a sitting duck here. You crawl up by the door, waiting patiently as he walks into the room right across from the one you’re hiding in. You make a quick run for the stairs, your breathing tight in your chest as you run, but for some reason, can’t recall why you’re running, you’re so fucking turned on right now. Your first few steps are loud and you curse out loud when suddenly Eddie’s feet are right behind yours, giggling with glee as you do.
Somehow, you make it up the steps and run straight to the kitchen, stopping at the island. He lands on the other side, his face hungry with want, his shirt untucked. There’s a wild look in his eye you can’t quite understand. You giggle as you attempt to go either way, realizing you’re stuck where you are.
“Oh, how is she gonna get out?” He taunts, watching you assess the situation.
Your instincts take over. You miraculously hop onto the island, using some sort of kicking method against the counter straight across and crawl into a dive for him, attacking his lips with yours. He accepts you without fail, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back hungrily. You place kisses down his neck, focusing on the one spot on his collarbone you knew he loved when you sucked on it.
“Like that.” You answer him, starting to run straight towards your bedroom.
Laughter like music to Eddie’s ears leaves your mouth as you reach the top of the stairs, and he books it straight after you, not waiting another second to chase you to where he suspects is either the hallway or your closet. You’re crouched down in the hallway, hoping he’ll go straight to the bedroom. He doesn’t, seeing you as soon as he rounds the corner.
He fists your hair at the crown and you help as he lifts you to your feet. “Looks like I caught ya.” He hums, his face watching you closely. His hands let go of you and he moves to kiss you again, his tongue feeling a sort of rough it hasn’t before. “Holy shit.” He mutters, guiding you so you’re up against the wall.
You kiss him back, and for what felt like the first time, you didn’t spend an ounce thinking about it, just giving in. “Ed.” You whimper, the heat between your legs now begging you to provide friction.
“Hmm?” Eddie asks, his hands moving roughly up and down your body. “What, baby?”
“Ed. Please.” You beg him, lifting your leg so you can at least feel his boner peeking at your clothed cunt.
“Nuh uh.” He tuts, lightly pushing on the knee. Your leg falls down, as well as your face. “You don’t get off until I tell you to. So, unless I move your leg, or remove your shirt, you just let me kiss you and respond. Got it?”
You gulp, nodding your head. “Yes.” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes faltering for a fraction of a second. “Eddie?” You ask, making sure he’s okay.
Eddie loves that you can pick up on this, even as he gives you new rules and a new playground to explore. “Do you mind just…doing one thing for me? It kind of stuck with me since you moved in.”
“What?” You ask, your heat still aching, but for the sake of his sanity and for his good graces, you attempt to stand still. (You’re terrible at it.)
“Call me sir?”
You reflect on moving day, the men calling him the name that so obviously gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Apparently, when you commented on it, you made an impact. “Yes, sir.”
“Holy shit.” Eddie hisses, marveling at you now, staring up at him through your eyelashes, waiting to be told what to do. “Now, be a good girl and bend over against the wall.”
“Yes, sir.” You tell him, turning around against the wall.
“No, actually.” He says, taking you by the hand and taking you downstairs. He guides your hips so you’re right in front of the kitchen sink and he bends you over. “Much better.”
He moves your sweats and panties down only to the middle of your thighs, bending on his knees as he admires the slick that has already gathered. “So wet.” He murmurs. You whimper as he barely dips a finger into your entrance, gathering some slick on his finger. He lifts it up to your mouth, “Open.” You do so without hesitation, licking your tongue all over the three knuckles he places in your mouth, tasting your own arousal. Without warning, he takes his finger out from your mouth and wipes it on your shirt. You waited for the praise that never came.
“Oh, now brats get praise for doing what they’re told?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking as he pulls down his pants.
“No, sir.” You mutter, now craving that praise even more.
“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and take this for me.” It’s the only warning you get before he slides his cock in. Your feet are practically planted right next to one another so you start to open your stance to allow him to go in deeper. “Ah.” You freeze in place, realizing your mistake.
He places his hand around your neck and brings it back to him, your neck extended feeling both incredibly uncomfortable and hot. “What did you do wrong?”
“Move without your say so.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, move without your say so, sir.”
“Here. If you ask, and I say yes, or, if I tell you to. That’s it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Eddie smiles down at your blown pupils and half open mouth. He was afraid he jumped in too deep and threw you into the bathwater, but he could feel your pussy tighten around him. You’re so into this. He gently kisses your forehead and lets go of your neck. He slides his cock in even more, and keep in mind, he hasn’t even started to fuck you, yet. He’s barely halfway in your pussy and holds onto your hips as he sees you start to squirm. “You need something baby?”
“Could you move please, sir? Just a little bit? Need it so bad.”
“Should’ve thought of that sooner, then baby.” He musters, sounding bored, though he’s anything but. “Here.” Without warning, Eddie moves his fingers against your clit and has you teetering the edge in mere minutes. You’re so close, you can see the edge. It’s right there.
He stops. He slides in a bit more into you as his mouth gets close to your ear, his breath giving you goosebumps. “Consequence.” He grunts out, his grip on your hips bruising.
Your knuckles are white as you hold onto the edge of the sink like a vice. It’s like you can taste it. He doesn’t move another inch, his heartbeat against your back and the only audible sound coming from you is your panting in need. Eddie pushes in the rest of his length and a second beautiful sound is added to the mix, one he couldn’t get enough of, even if he tried. Why would he ever try? The sound of your pussy as you gush around him is perfect. “Taking me so well.” Eddie mumbles as he places both of his hands over yours on the sink.
The whimper that leaves your throat forces its way out, your body is tense from doing everything you can not to swivel your hips or back yourself into him. “Baby, you’re so tense.” His arms flex along yours, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth. “Why, hmm?”
“You…you said not to move unless you say so.” You tell him, frustrated because, of course, he knows.
“Or, unless you ask to.” Eddie adds, his chin resting on that spot on your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
“Sir, can I please move my hips?” You ask him, hoping he isn’t teasing you again.
“Of course, baby.” Eddie’s tone is sweet and endearing. What a goddamn liar he is.
The words are like music to your ears as you start to move your hips, testing the waters. When your movement isn’t met with any punishment, you start moving more frantically, fucking yourself on his cock. Eddie lets out a sigh of content, hands raking down your back to your hips, the palms rough against your bare ass. “Sir, can I please move my feet?”
“See? My good girl is catching on. Of course you can, baby.” He answers, a smile lacing his voice.
Giddily, you move your feet further apart. “Sir, please…please take my clothes off?” You ask, waistband restricting your legs. “Wanna feel you.”
Eddie’s hands move down the apples of your ass to the sweats that started moving down your legs from the impact of your ass that had just started bouncing on him. He kisses your clothed back as you step out of them, kicking the garment aside. You feel the cotton of your shirt move up your back, your arms lifting over your head to assist Eddie as he takes it off. His lips touch the bare skin of your back, his tongue sending ripples down your spine as you shiver under his touch. Eddie grunts as you continue to swivel your hips against him.
“Fuck.” Eddie grunts, watching your naked form wither against him. He can no longer fight the incessant need that’s grown while waiting for you to ask him for movement. His hips start mercilessly pounding into you without a hint of a warning. The moans that fall from your throat are uninhibited and radically full of relief. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for, baby?”
“Mmhmm.” You nod your head, curling over the sink as your arms give out.
Eddie slows down and takes himself out, and your hand moves to push yourself off the sink the littlest bit when you realize your mistake. “You can move.” Eddie smirks, noting your obedience. He’s still standing with his pants down to his calves and his shirt disheveled. He steps out from his pants, tossing the pair toward your pile of clothes. Then he goes down each button on his shirt, slowly exposing his chest to you. As his fingers move over each one, you eye his chest hungrily, aware he’s watching your face while you watch him.
The shirt falls down his arms with a slight flop as the material hits the floor. “Sir…” you gulp, the two of you staring at one another. “Sir, can I kiss you?”
Eddie smirks, nodding his head. You take the two steps toward him and your legs wrap around his hips as you hungrily kiss each other. He turns toward the kitchen island, a small yelp leaving your mouth as the cold granite counter hits the warm flesh of your ass cheeks. He guides his cock into you, slowly pushing into your heat, watching your face as your eyes roll back. “Feel good?”
You nod, a laugh escaping your lips.
“What’s so funny, hmm?” Eddie asks, using his mouth and tongue against your neck.
“Good? Your cock is perfect, Ed.”
“What happened to sir, baby?” He asks, yet continues to rut into you. Your face falters, realizing your mistake. He lets out a laugh, pitying you.
He places his fingertips on your clit, circling slowly, making the heat that’s pooled in your stomach hotter and larger than you could even conceive. “That…that feels so good, Ed.” You tell him, letting your head fall back.
“God, I love when your tight pussy just-” he inhales through his teeth, “sucks me in… Feels like heaven.”
You giggle, the end of it cut off by a particularly rough thrust. “Heaven?” You gasp out, Eddie starts to move his fingers faster and matches the pace with his hips.
“If Heaven isn’t fucking this tight pussy all day, then I don’t fucking want it.” Eddie gasps back, a growl forming under his breath.
“Ed, I’m gonna—” the feeling overwhelms you, the edge muting your senses as your orgasm ripples through your body.
Eddie moans as you tighten more around him, a fix he figured impossible. He still rotates on your clit, you release two sharp exhales, the heat too hot, too much. “Too much, Ed.”
“You can do it, baby. I could just edge you more.” He mutters.
You giggle, frightened at the goddamn prospect of it. “No, no, no.”
“No? Well then show me. Let’s feel that pussy make a mess all over my cock.” You came from the words alone, giggles intertwined through your moans. “Oh fuck, good girl,”
“I’m so close, baby.” He moans.
“Gonna fill me up?” You ask him, your legs tight around his hips as you bite at his collar bone.
“Keep doing that.” Eddie begs you, and you happily oblige. Every nip, bite and suck at his collarbone had him gasping over you, the chain of his necklace hanging between you two. Your hands go into his hair, pulling at him and you could probably have a third one at the rate he was going at.
No probably about it, but Eddie’s panting and you’re exhausted.
Even then.
He pushes you down as he cums, your back screaming with cold as it hits the island counter. Eddie collapses on top of you, and you breathe heavily together, both catching your breath. His mouth latches on your neck, kissing a trail to your lips. “Oh, I love you.”
You smile into his kiss, your noodle legs falling from his hips. “I love you.” You find yourself wrapped in his arms, the smell of sweat and sex invades the kitchen. His chest is covered in sweat and there’s nothing better.
“Join me for a shower?” He asks after you two have a moment of silence, his fingers single handedly causing a brigade of goosebumps down your side as they move in a whisper over your skin. His other hand is wrapped on your left hand, and you don’t realize he’s unconsciously rubbing at your ring finger.
“If I can walk.” You giggle.
Eddie chuckles, pulling himself out of you and giving you a sleepy half smile. “I could always…” He begins, and then he scoops you up over his shoulder to take you up the stairs. You protest for the first minute of it, but when the view is his toned ass as he walks up the stairs, you really couldn’t complain.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken
Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp
(Okay the very idea that this many people wanted on the taglist is INSANE to me. If you want on it, just reply and I'll add you.)
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inquebrar · 4 months
Text
late night thoughts in the midst of 60 days without spiderbit, q!Cellbit talking about not being interested in having sex right after getting married to q!Roier (since what usually is expected to happen is the "honeymoon") and how this situation was handled in such a light and tender way it's something that lives in my mind rent free and it impacted me so deeply that every time i rewatch it i feel like biting my own arm crying and screaming with happiness.
like, the wedding had just ended, they went to the castle together, to their home, and then when q!Cellbit says "i don't know if that's a problem with you" i immediately held my breath without even realizing and waited to see what q!Roier's reaction would be and there was no joke, no mockery or uncomfortable comment, in fact it was the most incredible response possible this whole scene is absolutely wonderful. q!Cellbit says "it's ok, right? i thought it would be okay but i mean, i thought we should talk" and then "but like, we can still sleep together i'm just not gonna make sex" and this part makes me want to explode because while q!Cellbit is saying that q!Roier lets out an aww and then he says "yes, you know, it's not only sex it's not only mwah mwah mwah (kissing), it's to have time with each other and maybe we can play enigma do medo together!" he not only reaffirmed that a relationship is not just based on making out but he also suggested what they can do during their honeymoon, they can spend time together and play games and then sleep together to rest.
and to me it's so important that this is something constant and meaningful in q!Cellbit and not just something that is used superficially in the character, like when he met q!Philza and he talked about his platonic relationship with q!Missa, q!Cellbit's reaction was "ah, in an asexual way?" and then how after starting his relationship with q!Roier when people made sexual insinuations he always said "nah, i don't like doing that" and once in a fun talk with q!Pol who said that q!Roier is very "libidinous" and "promiscuous" q!Roier replied like "wait do you only think about these things? life isn't always like that, you know? it's about love, coexistence and tenderness"
and then several other little moments, like when q!Roier was showing off his spider-man outfit in a sensual and flirting way, lying on the floor like "so... what do you think?" and q!Cellbit replied "oh i liked it, do you like spider-man a lot? have you seen the new animation movie or not yet?" or when q!Roier was making the joke that he was hungry (horny XD) and q!Cellbit was like "i can't believe this, here i am thinking about making something for us to have dinner together, a romantic dinner and you thinking about that..." and q!Roier was like "give me d*ck" 🗣️HAUSHSKSHDJSK or when they started making sex jokes like "yeah we were having sex, a lot of sex" meanwhile they were just construting together and spending time with each other AARRGH idk man i just love them so much and them having a relationship based on trust and love above all else is so significant
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stylespresleyhearted · 2 months
Text
POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER
pt. ✌🏻
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liked by fan23, user12, and 1923 others
cturnerupdates Cal & Y/N spotted at a cafe in Paris today - March 23, 2024
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fan12 I SHIP IT BUT IM JEALOUS
y/nfan two lovers in the city of love 🥹 fitting ♥️
user23 I’m calling it now these two are gonna be it for each other. They’re end game.
yourinstagram that’s the goal🥹
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liked by yourinstagram, austinbutler and 15,713 others
keoghan92 Context: Cal taking his bird away because we were apparently “pissed ” 🙄
Photo credit - me 🫡
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anthonyboyle baftas are always a fun night eh?
yourinstagram he saved your ass, i had you!!!
keoghan92 love I’ll out drink you any day
yourinstagram tbh we weren’t even that drunk
rafflaw you were crying cus you “lost” your boyfriend but he was holding your hand the entire time and barry thought the stalls were narnia entry
keoghan92 that’s a solid night mate
fan23 damn y/n looks good
yourinstagram tits out & every thang 🤗
keoghan92 Oi her heads big enough
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liked by enews, yourfriendsig, and 5,391 others
yourinstagram trying to enjoy my lunch but this weird (cute) guy won’t stop bothering me (i love him)
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user12 i need to know what its like to be her
fan23 callum is so down bad for her #relatable
fan21 what did she cover up 👀
yourinstagram lol just cal being cheeky
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liked by anthonyboyle and 7183 others
yourinstagram hi handsome ♥️
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fan23 THE WAY HE’S LOOKING AT HER 🙌🏼😭😭
user68 i wonder if he’s aware how many photos she takes of him and she posts them all its weird
yourfriendsig lmao trust he’s aware & he’s obsessed when it comes to y/n
fan21 ppl see shit on the internet & think they know everything ugh 😑
yourinstagram guys let’s all be nice and enjoy looking at my beautiful boyfriend! 😍
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liked by yourinstagram and 38175 others
jimmyfallonshow Tune in tonight 10/11 CT to witness Callum Turner swoon over ‘amazing’ girlfriend 💕 ….
When asked if he’s aware how iconic she’s become on social media he said he’s well aware and he isn’t at all surprised before divulging to Jimmy “she’s the one.” 💍 👀
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user23 After watching the interview I’m 100% convinced he’s the golden retriever and she’s the black cat. Y/N loves him but gosh … the way he was talking about her and looking at her?
fan13 IMA CRY ITS NOT LETTING ME WATCH SOMEONE SHARE
y/nupdates It starts with Callum sharing a joke and Jimmy didn’t laugh but Y/N did from the crowd 😂 Callum recognized her laugh and said “thanks baby” and then that’s when Jimmy asked about her IG fame. Callum said “she’s the one man - we aren’t worried about that.” When Jimmy asked how they deal with the attention.
user12 starting to wonder if they’re secretly married/engaged
fan31 Nah and I think it’s beautiful even though they’re aware they are it for each other she’s willing to wait and support him as he enters a new kind of fame
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liked by user23, fan12, and 71942 others
yourinstagram Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy - 🥵
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callumfan Y/N PLSSSSSS I CANNNOOOTTT
user41 girllll yes !!!!
fan53 can i please be you???
user91 ur man is so daddy he’s fire
user33 Y/N and Callum daddy kink confirmed
keoghan92 That’s what we called him on set
yourinstagram back off my man barry
rafflaw … we really did though
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liked by austinbutler, yourinstagram, and 58194 others
drewbarrymoreshow Hilarious, gorgeous, and kind — yes these guys, but I was referring to the star of tonight’s show Callum Turner’s girlfriend. Her Instagram page is one of my favorite’s, tune in to watch me fan girl over three stars tonight.
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yourinstagram unreal !! i adore you !!❤️❤️
drewbarrymoreshow Text me for our date night 🤗
fan23 everyone loves y/n it’s beautiful to see someone being praised when they’re authentically themselves
user12 shoulda interviewed her too
drewbarrymooreshow 🌚
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liked by austinbutler, camilamorrone, and 43817 others
yourinstagram Y/N by me (Cal) 💍♥️😍
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fan31 HIS EMOJI USE?!?? rip me
user12 im gonna cry she’s so smol he’s so tol
fan23 Cal make your own page!!! We know it’ll just be Y/N and we’re okay with it!!! It’s what we want tbh !!!
keoghan92 “why the fuck are you taking a photo” is what she was mid saying
user25 omg he probably crushes her she’s tiny it’s great
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liked by zendaya, austinbutler, and 65189 others
yourinstagram 🥹
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fan23 ugh the height difference kills me
user12 they’re so in love it makes me happy
fan33 I believe in love because of them tbh
fan67 idk how he hasn’t popped the question yet
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liked by fan21, user33, and 19278 others
cturnerupdates Callum spotted with Y/N and his mother in London back in Feb for his birthday. The group had a picnic at the park and Callum’s mother even braided her hair — Feb 19, 2024
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user13 ohhhh he’s gonna be a girl dad fs
fan54 she’s got the momma’s stamp approval it’s gonna happen
user23 what i wouldn’t give to be his gf and have a picnic w him at the park and have his mom braid my hair
fan56 Is anyone gonna talk about how he’s looking at her? 🥹🥹😍 Definition of heart eyes
————
I’m so down bad for this man so I really couldn’t resist making another one. He’s handsome and charming and manly and ughhhhh kill me!
P.S slight FC use of Olivia Dejonge. Not only is she gorgeous but she’s so smol and I find it so beautiful, especially with how large he is. Needed that picture for a specific use to help identify the size difference between the two but feel free to keep imagining whoever. He’s dated Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa so the hair color constantly changes in pics 😭
Don’t have a tag list but thanks to everyone for all the love, hope ya’ll enjoy this one as well 💕
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imaginesig · 5 months
Text
“If they call me a slut, you know it might be worth if for once”
Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader
yourusername
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liked by lewishamilton, user1, y/nhq, and 402,038 others
yourusername: my muse <3
tagged lewishamilton
lewishamilton its an honor love
user1 when will I find someone to call me love
lando.jpg your own jpg account when??
yourusername I'll stick to my day job
user2 anybody else bothered by how quickly she goes from man to man
user3 right? like I swear she's had about 7 "muses" in the past 3 years
user4 she's literally done nothing wrong?? how dare a women date more than 1 person in her life??
carlossainz55 so new music when?
Charles_leclerc the Ferrari playlist needs an update
yourusername update loading 🔄
user5 oh please be a new album!!
load more
lewishamilton
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liked by roscoovescoco, yourusername, user6, and 183,829 others
lewishamilton: race weekend with my loves
tagged: mercadesamgf1, roscoelovescoco, yourusername
landonorris interesting order
yourusername we all know Roscoe is the real star here
roscoelovescoco listen to the lady 🙌
mercadesmhf1 we love having the Hamilton family in the paddock
yourusername ahhh love to be there!!
lewishamilton 💚
georgerussell63 always a good time with these two in the house
yourusername ahhhh Georgie 🫶🫶
user1 "Georgie" 🥹😭
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tmz_offical
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tmz_offical: just days after the end of the season, f1 driver Lewis Hamilton is spotted out with young girlfriend Y/n L/n. The couple is notorious for keeping their privacy, making paparazzi pictures a rare instance. Click the link in our bio to see what else was taken during their night out on the town.
tagged lewishamilton, yourusername
user1 no wonder they keep private, I would too if ended up trapped in a relationship with a slut like her
user2 didn't she and Dylan O'Brian break up right before they got together? Didn't think he rebound guy would last this long
user3 I could never imagine dating someone that much older than me
user4 fr someone tell her to take it down a notch, her sluttiness is showing
User8 the one sided hate is mid boggling
user5 the negativity is DEFINING
user6 right, y'all can't stand to see a women happy, healthy, and unbothered
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y/nupdates
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liked by lewishamilton, user5, user9, and 749,934 more
y/nupdates: Y/n seen outside the studio with her producer after radio silence all winter!!
tagged yourusername
user1 she's cooking
user2 she's entering her reputation era I can feel it
user3 fr, after that one tmz post blows up and her comments are flooded with negativity, she locked herself away with her love, and is now seen for the first time in awhile leaving the studio
user4 I CANT HANDLE THIS RN
user5 not the slut trying for a comeback
user6 how about you lead by example? Leave and don't come back 🫶
user8 you know the records gonna slap when @/producer sprinkled her magic
user9 I need them and Taylor+Jack to release something
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yourusername
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liked by user5, lewishamilton, y/nhq, and 394,028 others
yourusername: "Slut!" out now on all streaming platforms!! The rest of the album, "Amor Omnia Vincit" out this Friday!
when I originally sat down to create this new album I didn't image I'd write half the songs that made the final cut, but I did. This has been a very therapeutic experience for me.
Thank you to this album, my amazing team, and my lovely muse for keeping me going in the difficult time <3
tagged: y/nhq
lewishamilton you are so Shawn Hunter coded
lewishamilton I love you dear
yourusername I love you too darling
user1 they are so domestic I'm crying 🤭😭
user2 lets all start a thread of our fav lyrics from "Slut!"
user3 "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us" WE KNOW THIS COUPLE ALWAYS BRING FIRE FITS
user4 very obvious but "if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once," just hits so hard, like this is an issue she's dealt with for so long but Lewis makes it all better bc their relationship trumps everything
user5 piggy backing off of @/user4 's reasoning, "the sticks and stones they throw froze mid air"
user6 "IN A WORLD OF BOYS HES A GENTLEMAN" 🔛🔝
user7 I'm still not very her admitting that all the negavity around her dating has affected her so bad that she told Lewis "I said it might blow up in your pretty face"
scuderiaferarri we will not apologize for the people we'll become when this drops ‼️
Charles_leclerc we've always been #1 y/n stans
lewishamilton you red fuckers can take two steps back that's my title
carlossainz55 I thought you were her muse?
lewishamilton I'm both
user8 ok possessive king
youruserame for me and me only 🥰
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lewishamilton
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liked by georgerussell64, your username, user1, and 789,739 others
lewishamilton: SO, SO, SO PROUD OF YOU LOVE!! Watching you work through a rough patch with such grace was beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to be apart of it and listen to these songs+more. I'll be your muse forever if you'll have me <3
tagged yourusername, y/nhq
yourusername forever and always <3
lewishamilton <3
user1 that water look very ~aquamarine~ to anyone
user2 he def knew what he was doing
lewishamilton I had a message to send 🤷🏾‍♂️
user2 LMAOOO HES SO PETTY
yourusername sassy man epidemic isn't a joke
user3 I love that she left like people wanted and wrote a whole song to shut down the hater but also put her and Lewis's relationship on the pedestal it deserves
producer such a sweet album!! Some of the best love songs out there!!
Charles_leclerc Vigilante Shit is my new pre-prix anthem
yourusername watch out @/maxverstappen1
maxverstappen this is where the dutch anthem falls silent 😔
carlossainz55 wasn't ready for Dress
yourusername but...
carlossainz55 its my fav
user4 I love that lewis posted for the whole album when Y/n didn't, but she's replying to comments in his section when he isn't
user5 they really are made for each other huh
roscoelovescoco amazing work mom!!
user5 I will never get over the mom
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, Charles_leclerc, user5, and 937,039 others
yourusername: surprise!! Since this album taught me what it was like to write and create in such an intamate space with very few people/outide influence I wanted to celebrate it with 3 small shows in Monaco, London, and Ottawa!
tickets on sale at 12 pm eastern this friday, see ya then ;)
tagged y/nhq
landonorris do friends get discounts??
yourusername everyone on the grid plus any serious significant others get VIP entry courtesy of me and my team 💖😘
y/nhq we'll be reaching out soon to select the show
lilymhe you don't understand how excited this makes me!!
yourusername well I couldn’t celebrate without my girls (and their men too ig 🙄🤚)
oscarpiastri thanks a lot y/n
alexalbon anybody else feeling loved??
lewishamilton completely 🫶
user1 this will start world war 3 I can feel it
user2 this is the eras tour all over again
user3 except that was selling stadiums, these are small venues
user4 any f1 driver want to link up for a show?? you'll never have to speak to me ever again
user5 I regret to inform you babe, but I think this is the reason she said serious significant others...
user6 official tour soon?? Please mother??
yourusername oh so very soon...
load more
lewishamilton
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liked by your username, georgerussel64, landonorris, and 379,268 others
lewishamilton "got lovestruck went straight to my head" <3
tagged yourusername
user1 crying throwing up
user2 quoting her song?? that's about him?? I'll be resting my eyes on the highway if anybody needs me
user3 my toaster looks like a fun bath bomb
yourusername "got lovesick all over my bed" <3
landonorris beautiful show, beautiful couple 🧡
yourusername 🧡
scuderiaferrari maybe we're colorblind but that doesn't look like Mercedes green
mercadesamgf1 watch your back
georgerussell64 👀
georgerussell64 slayed so hard
yourusername an honor from the meme king?? I'm not worthy
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yourusername
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liked by Charles_leclerc, user9, lewishamilton, and 930,393 others
yourusername thank you to everyone who came out to a show this weekend!! I had a blast sining new stuff, covers, and old pieces with you all- the love I experienced was unreal!! I cannot wait to see what happens in the future 💖
To all those close to me, our relationships mean the absolute world!! Special love to Lewis who held my hand through my darkest time, showed me what a true relationship was, and gave me a perfect little boy (I love you Roscoe). Darling, its been a wonderful experience being with you <3
tagged y/nhq, landojpg
lewishamilton love you so much angel <3
georgerussell64 definitely gave me and Carmen the night of our lives!!
alexalbon the show was so amazing I almost forgot you flirted with my gf in the invitation
yourusername stay mad
lilymhe 🥵
Roscoelovescoco can I come next time??
yourusername I'll see what I can do...
landjpg thank you for photo creddits and well as the opportunity to photograph these unique shows
yourusername you didn't not dissapoint 👏👏 thank you for doing it
Charles_leclerc I had an amazing time!!!
carlossainze55 you should hear him try to speak, voice complelty gone
yourusername that's the kind of energy we all need
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343 notes · View notes
Text
A Fresh Start [16]
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Warnings: medical trauma, mild gore (I’m not super descriptive), mentions of blood, angst, fluff, domestic bliss, brief male masturbation, tons of self doubt, idiots in love
Word Count: 10k+
Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you  fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant  for everyone.
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Ch. #16: I DON’T WANT IT TO BE A SIN
a/n: if you thought the sneak peek i gave you was peak domestic bliss y’all ain’t gonna know what hit you right out the gate👀
“i had never met a soul
who could speak my language.
until there was you.
you, are fluent in me.”
-lonely.penguin
When you reached the front door of the house, it occurred to you that just walking in could be a problem. With all the drama going on today, the last thing you needed was adding ‘accidentally breaking Din’s creed’ to the list. You poked your head in and called out, “Hey, I’m home!”
“We’re in the kitchen!” Din called out. His voice didn’t sound modulated, but the words made it seem like he’d be ready for you by the time you arrived. You closed the door behind you and seconds later you heard Grogu’s voice hollering for you.
“Ma, ma, ma, ma!” He chanted while turning the corner and rushing toward you. Seeing his cheery demeanor as he waddled to you, full of life and energy, made you forget every single worry that was clouding your mind.
“Grogu!” You gasped with a grin. Quickly, you knelt down in time for him to leap into your arms and you cradled him to your chest, peppering kisses along the top of his head, “Hi, baby. I was so worried about you.” 
“Missed ma.” Grogu buried his face into the crook of your neck and tears sprung to your eyes. Maker, you were pathetically emotional today. When you looked up from the boy hugging you, you saw Din leaning against the wall with his helmet on. His arms were crossed over his broad chest. His black t-shirt was form fitting and you couldn’t help but admire the skin available for you to stare at. Knowing he didn’t reveal himself in this state to anyone else made your face flush with warmth. Grogu un-buried his face from your neck to set his hands on your cheeks⏤ dragging your attention back to him. “Epar.”
You ran through the dictionary of Mando’a words you knew until you found the familiar word. “Eat? Did buir make food?”
“Buir tried.” Din grunted. “But someone is being picky.”
Grogu blew a raspberry at his father and both you and Din chuckled in response. Picky or not, having Grogu awake and playing was such a relief. Din pushed off the wall and drifted closer. As he approached, you felt your breath catch in your throat. If Din noticed he didn’t comment. Instead, he caressed the side of your arm with the back of his fingers before letting his hand trail down until it rested on your lower back. With this new position, Grogu was sandwiched between the two of you.
“Hi.” You mumbled softly.
“Hi.” Din echoed back, but his voice was tinged in amusement. “How was Nima?”
You nodded. “Good. She’s good. How⏤ Um, did you⏤ I was wondering⏤”
“Are you hungry?” Din asked simply as you tried and failed to squeeze out a sentence about your future. “I made three different meals because Grogu asked for them then changed his mind after a bite. So you have options.”
You gave him a small nod and Din led you toward the kitchen keeping his hand on your back. On the kitchen counter, as he said, were three small portions of different dishes. Each with a Grogu sized bite taken out of it. You ticked Grogu in the side. “What do you wanna eat, baby?”
“It’s a trap. Don’t believe anything the little womp rat says.” Din hummed.
“You’re not a little womp rat. You’re a little angel, aren’t you?” Grogu giggled at your cooing and his laughter increased at the sound of his father’s scoff of disbelief. You opened the fridge with Grogu in your arms and let him peer in. Regardless of what he asked for, you were going to make him something light. The last thing you wanted to do was upset his stomach. But considering you still wanted to give him one more dose of antibiotics, he definitely needed to eat something. Grogu began to point at the fruit drawer and you chuckled. “Okay, baby. How about you go hang out with buir while mama makes lunch?”
“Come here, ad’ika.” Din held his arms out to take Grogu from you. 
It didn’t take you long to prep the snack for him. You had taken the plain yogurt in the fridge and used the blender to mix the fruit and yogurt together. His favorite fruit was a bit acidic so you wanted to make it less so with the yogurt. When it was made up, you brought the bowl over to Din and Grogu and scooped a bit on a spoon. He took the first spoonful then chirped for another.
Din snorted with a shake of his head. “You’re really becoming a mama’s boy, you know that?”
Grogu ignored him and continued to take any spoonful you offered him. You shot Din a sheepish smile, “Sorry. I promise I’m not trying to steal him away.”
“Don’t be.” Din replied. He used the hand not holding Grogu to hold the boy’s hand. “I like to see it. I’m happy he has a mama to be a mama’s boy for.” Your heart skipped a beat in your chest⏤ something you thought only to be a figure of speech. “I can finish feeding him if you want to eat.”
You nervously shook your head. “Can we⏤ Can we talk before we eat?”
“Of course. Say what you need to say, ner kar’ta.”
“Actually, I was hoping you could say something.” You admitted. Grogu, plenty happy with his food and being surrounded by those who loved him, just lightly bounced in Din’s arms as you fed him. You shrugged. “I assume… Did you read my file?”
“I did.”
“And?”
You waited nervously as Din remained silent. As comfortable as it had been seconds before, you didn’t want to fall into a lull of false security. You wanted Din to share his opinion so you could figure out your standing in his life. Finally, after feeding Grogu five more spoonfuls, Din spoke.
“What is a fat embolism?”
The spoon in your hand shook as your hand trembled and you were forced to set it down into the bowl. Grogu whined at the motion. It took you a moment before your hand felt steady enough to resume feeding the child. What a question. A lawyer had asked you the exact same thing while in court. It had been difficult to answer then as well and not because of a lack of knowledge. 
“It’s when a globule of fat blocks blood flow.” You murmured. “You can see it after trauma. Fat seeps out of a bone fracture, gets into the bloodstream, and it…” You took in a slow breath. “It’s not always fatal. You just have to catch it early, and we⏤ I didn’t.”
Din nodded. “That’s what the file said. That Soran’s cause of death was cardiopulmonary arrest due to a pulmonary fat embolism.”
“I thought we were in the clear.” You said and your voice came out in a whimper. “I thought she was okay. She was stable. Soran was stable.” There was that word again. Stable. It hadn’t met anything that day. Maybe that’s why you had used it so much last night and this morning. If you said it enough it would be true. You should’ve said it more that day. “She was stable and then she wasn’t.”
Finished with the bowl of yogurt and pureed fruit, Grogu whined to be let down and when Din followed the child’s instruction Grogu waddled away. Both of you watched him heard toward the hall before Din’s focus on you pulled you back into the moment. He reached out and let just the tip of his fingers drag down your arm⏤ leaving a trail of fire against your skin. Din didn’t stop until his hand slipped into yours, fingers tangling together. 
There was a sense of security that came with the weight of his hand in yours. Din’s thumb traced circles where it rested. “What did you do?”
“What?”
“Can you walk me through it? I don’t know a lot about medicine.” Din lifted his hand, carrying yours with it, and rested it against his chest. The back of your palm pressed against his heart. You could feel it’s steady beat. “Not unless it’s bacta or cautery, that is.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment, but it was short lived. You gave a small shrug. “She crashed. Soran couldn’t breathe. There was no other reason for it so I knew it had to be a clot. I had hoped it was a blood clot. I could fix that.” You pressed your lips together. Eyes focusing on the edge of his helmet⏤ unable to meet the eyes you couldn’t even see. “Started a blood thinner to break apart the clot, but it didn’t help. That’s when I knew… the blockage wasn’t a blood clot. It was a fat globule.”
“What are you supposed to do for that?”
“There’s nothing you can do. Not at that point.” You answered. “We don’t have a medicine to break up a fat embolism quickly. The moment it got lodged in her lungs like that…”
Din nodded. “How do you prevent that from happening after a trauma? Is there a medicine for that?”
“Well, no, you⏤ Din, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to understand.” He replied. “The court transcripts had a few different testimonies. They all had a common agreement. Every doctor interviewed said Soran was dead the moment that building landed on her.”
You shook your head and tried to pull your hand away, but Din’s grip tightened. He wouldn’t let you go. “She was my best friend. I knew her since we were kids. We grew up together⏤ we were neighbors. I shouldn’t have been her doctor.”
“You were the only one available at the time. You tried to find someone, but there was no one else.” Din replied. “If you hadn’t jumped in, then she would’ve died even sooner.” He leaned forward. “The starship collision caused the building she worked in to collapse. Soran got trapped in the rubble. A pillar fractured her femur and shattered her pelvis.” The way he spoke was as if he had memorized the transcript itself. “Soran was trapped for eight hours before she was un-buried and brought to your ED. A pulmonary fat embolism, something you said that can’t be prevented or treated, can form six hours after even a single fracture.”
Your bottom lip quivered and you bit down on it in a poor attempt to control your emotions. These were all facts you knew. Logically, you understood everything, but there was a part of you that could not shake the guilt that planted roots in your heart. The entire trial you had sat in a haze. You barely remembered the specifics of those days. In fact, only one memory stuck with you⏤ the hatred and rage in Kurt’s eyes as he stared at you from the court gallery. 
“There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before, Din.” You mumbled.
“I know. I’m sure.” Din nodded once. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to say it.” He rested his forehead against yours. “Ner kar’ta, you did not kill your best friend.” The unshed tears collecting in your eyes spilled over. “Soran did not die by your hands. You were just the last hands to care for her⏤ the last hands to show her love.”
A shaky sob spilled from your lips and Din’s other hand came to rest on the back of your neck. He pulled you into his chest and rested his chin on top of your head. You had heard so many people tell you it wasn’t your fault. Each time was a different variation of the same words. But, nobody had said it quite like Din. Nobody painted your last actions with her in a loving manner. You cried into his chest and Din murmured reassurances in Mando’a⏤ the rumbling of his voice just as much a comfort as the beating of his heart. 
A force tugging at the pants around your ankle made you pull back. Grogu stood by your feet, holding his stuffed frog, and stared up at you with a tilt to his head and concern in his eyes. You let out a shaky, pathetic laugh and let go of Din to scoop the child up. When Grogu was nestled into your chest, Din pulled you back into his. There was a lot of baggage to wade through, and you knew one heartfelt conversation wasn’t going to cure everything. However, in Din’s arms you found peace.
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Din Djarin was living in domestic bliss. That was the only way to describe his current state. Nearly two weeks had passed since Grogu was sick and the pirates attacked. Since then, Grogu had been picture perfect in terms of health and the busiest he had been, work wise, was when two pilots got in a fist fight over ship parking in the hangar. At home, things were nearly perfect. A wall had been broken after the discussion about Soran, you seemed more open and free. The job Karga had offered you was put out of mind it seemed, and Din had made it very clear to the High Magistrate that if he bothered you about becoming Nevarro’s physician he’d beat the kriffing hell out of him. 
The only thing that kept his situation from becoming fully perfect was the fact that Din had never been more sexually frustrated in his entire life. He had never felt closer to you emotionally, but physically your relationship hadn’t progressed beyond what happened the morning Karga interrupted the two of you. Din took advantage of the little moments available to him. A caress on your arm as he was passing you in the hall, leaning into your side when the two of you shared a couch playing with Grogu, setting his hands on your hips to peer over your shoulder while you made food. He treasured every moment because it was all he had. Never mind the fact that if he stared at you for too long the urge to rip your clothes off and pick up where left off became overwhelming.
But Din didn’t want to push. Karga bringing up your past had obviously been traumatic, and the absolute last thing he wanted was to pressure you into something you weren’t sure of because you were emotional. In the bathroom with your lips pressed against his every scar you seemed more than eager to reciprocate his desires, but since then he had been the only one to initiate touch. You never turned him down and when his hands brushed against you it brought a smile to your face, but that was all. You didn’t make the effort to touch him first and that was beginning to make Din nervous.
Had he misread your initial interest? Or had things just changed?
Regardless of the reasoning, it left Din beating his frustrations out in the shower⏤ one hand wrapped around his cock in a tight fist pathetically trying to pretend like your hands were on him once more. He felt shame with his actions. You were innocently padding around the house chasing after his son while trying to make breakfast and here he was picturing what it’d feel like to have your pretty lips wrapped around him. It made Din feel downright depraved, but then again he never claimed to be a good man. His breath hitched as the thrusts into his hands grew erratic. His other arm rested on the shower wall, bare forehead pressed against his forearm, as hot water from the shower ran down his back.
“Din!” Your voice came from the other side of the door as your knuckles rapped against the door. Hearing his name from your lips, Din came with a shudder and though he buried his mouth against his forearm to hide his pleasure a moan still slipped out. “Din? Are you alright?”
Maker, you really were going to be the death of him. Din cleared his throat, “I’m⏤ I’m fine. Just... moved wrong.” Din blurted. He had been out during the night taking care of a few reptavians who had left their nest in the lava plains to try and settle in the streets. He handled it without even having to call Mayfeld or Cara for backup, but it’d work fine as an excuse. “A reptavian⏤”
“Did you get hurt?” You asked and the concern in your voice made his chest ache. “I asked earlier and you said you were fine! Do I need to get my kit? They’re venomous creatures, aren’t they?”
Din flipped the shower’s handle from hot to cold and grimaced when the icy water replaced the warmth. It was necessary though. As absolutely pathetic as it was, the sound of your voice was going to make him hard again. He grunted out, “I just pulled my shoulder I think. No wounds for you to cauterize.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d lower myself to using a cautery.” You joked. Din chuckled and ran his hands over his face in a poor attempt to get a hold of himself. “I wanted to let you know breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks. I’ll be out in a second.” He called back.
The sound of your fading footsteps made him heave a sigh of relief. Din let the ice water run over him for a moment more before shutting it off and reaching for a towel. Dank farrik. Din quickly pulled on his shirt and a pair of sweatpants before using the towel to dry his hair best he could. It’d be nice to dry it entirely before putting his helmet on, but that meant spending more time in the bathroom. Din scratched the scruff at his jawline and his stupid brain wondered if you’d prefer a clean shaven guy. He muttered a string of curses under his breath in annoyance at himself before shoving his helmet onto his head.
When he stepped out, he noticed Grogu waiting for him at the end of the hall in the arch that led into the kitchen. The little boy giggled while bouncing in place. Din tilted his head. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into, ad’ika?”
“Where did⏤” Your voice drifted toward him. “Grogu, did you eat your buir’s sandwich??”
Grogu giggled again. Din chuckled and pointed at him, “Come here, you little womp rat.” Grogu squealed in excitement and rushed away. Din chased after his son who ran and jumped to avoid him. You laughed from your spot leaning against the kitchen counter. Din paused as he watched Grogu leap into your arms. He set his hands on his hips, “You think your ma can keep you from me, ad’ika?”
Din took a step around the counter, but stopped again when he noticed you mirrored his step with a smirk⏤ maintaining the same distance between the two of you. He tilted his head, lips curling into a grin under his helmet. You shrugged. “I promised to take care of Grogu and if that means protecting him from a Mandalorian…”
“I can respect that.” Din took another slow step in your direction and you stumbled back. Grogu began to pat on your shoulder as a warning. His son knew that if you really wanted to escape you’d need to start moving right now⏤ not that that would really stop him. “You know, you have a bad habit of challenging Mandalorians.”
The last time you had challenged him, while lying in bed with Grogu, Din ended up on top of you. That was the kind of situation he’d be more than happy to repeat. Grogu whined for you to run and Din found it amusing that his son was aware of any warning sign he might have. You seemed to think you were still in a position of power when the exact opposite was true. 
“Mmm, not Mandalorians. Just you.” You smirked. Din felt feral. Combining the idea of an adrenaline filled hunt and his desire for you was an addicting prospect. He liked it way, way more than he should. “What’re you gonna do about it, Djarin?”
Din slipped his hands into his sweatpants pockets, the picture of casual nonchalance, and grinned in excitement under his helmet. “I can bring you in warm,” He didn't bother hiding the amusement in his voice, “or I can bring you in cold.”
Grogu snickered conspiratorially, and you arched a single eyebrow in challenge. Din needed no further invitation. Quicker than you had probably assumed, he lunged forward and you yelped in surprise followed by a laugh. You ran from him, hurrying around the kitchen island, and Din gave chase. Without his heavy armor and gear, Din was faster than he was out in the field. He could end this chase in a second or two, but where was the fun in that? Din stayed close enough to be a threat, but far enough to allow you to slip away from him consistently. The sound of his deep chuckles mingled with the pitch of Grogu and your laughs. 
You rounded the couch, with the thought that a barrier would keep him from you. It was a fair thought, but Din hurdled over the sofa in one smooth movement and landed in front of you. You cried out in surprise and tried to spin to turn the opposite way. Din was quick to wrap his arms around your middle and lift you up off the ground with ease. He still found it cute that you had worried you’d be too heavy for him. You squirmed in his arms, but he simply tightened his.
Din could tell you about the time he had to trek across a Tatooine desert in his full gear while carrying Grogu and everything he had on a land speeder that had been destroyed in a fight⏤ including all of Boba Fett’s gear. That would come off as bragging though, wouldn’t it? Not that Din didn’t want to brag, but he at least didn’t want to be obvious about it.
“Hey!” You twisted to try and escape his grasp while Grogu leaned over your shoulder and tapped on his helmet while babbling demands between each giggle that left him. To stop your squirming, Din roughly squeezed your sides which caused even louder laughs to leave you. He didn’t know you were ticklish. It had just been a guess. One he found immense pleasure in discovering. “No tickling! That’s not fair!”
“I never claimed to play fair.” Din hummed, nestling his head by yours.
“You’re the marshal. I’m pretty sure there are laws that say I have rights.”
“Hmm, alright.” Din replied. He squeezed you once more, eliciting another startled laugh, before dropping you back to your feet so he could spin you around. Din kept his hands on your hips caging you against his chest. He tilted his head. “Would you like me to bring out a pair of binders?”
“I, uh, I…” You were grasping for words.
“Buir, parjii!” Grogu praised.
Winner. That was a good word to describe him right now. With you and Grogu in his arms, Din felt like he had won the universe. Din took Grogu from your arms and set him on the ground, “Tsikador.” Grogu whined briefly. “Ad’ika.”
Grogu mumbled an affirmative before waddling toward his room. You began to turn to help Grogu get ready for the day, but Din tightened his grip on you. Your attention focused back on him with wide and curious eyes. Din cleared his throat, nervous suddenly, and he nodded. “I wanted to…”
“What is it, Din?”
Before he could lose his nerve, Din took a steadying breath and let his hands leave your hips to settle on his helmet. He wanted you to see his face. All his fears remained. What if he felt even less like himself as he drifted further away from his Creed? What if he was overplaying his hand? What if you meant more to him than he did to you and this just scared you away? What if you didn’t like his appearance? The fears were loud in his mind, but the way he felt about you was so much louder.
Din began to lift when your hands suddenly shot up to cover his⏤ halting his movements. It caught him off guard, as did the panic in your eyes. You shook your head. “Don’t.”
“It’s alright, ner kar’ta.” Din reassured. “I’m okay with this. I want this.”
He tried once more, but your hands tugged his helmet back in place. You swallowed nervously. “I…” Realization dawned on him then. It wasn’t that you were concerned for him. You didn’t want this. Din felt his heart plummet in his chest. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”
Your voice was soft and quiet, yet the words might as well have been screamed in his face with the way he was feeling⏤ like all the air had been pulled out of the room and he was suffocating. Din let his hands fall and he took a step back. One foot between the two of you might as well have felt like miles. Suddenly, new fears ran amok in his mind fueling his anxiety. Had he tricked himself into seeing something that wasn’t there? Ever since that day, you hadn’t initiated or returned any of his advances. Maker, had he been making you uncomfortable? Was he just some sleemo boss harassing you and because of his position you felt you couldn’t tell him to stop? Din had never hated himself more. He knew he was terrible at relationships and forming connections, but this was worse than he could’ve kriffing imagined.
“I should help Grogu. I promised him I’d take him to the park this morning.” You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. “You should get some sleep. You were out all night⏤ I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“Right.” Din mumbled. You offered him a small, polite smile and hurried away. He forced himself to wander to the kitchen island where the food you made for breakfast, the items Grogu hadn’t scarfed down, lay waiting. Din found he didn’t have much of an appetite right now.
Dank farrik.
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Dank farrik.
You wanted to punch yourself in the face. Was that  something physically possible? Maybe you’d ask Nima to do it for you. If you told her the mistake you made, Maker knows she’d be tempted anyway. Din wanted to show you his face. Din trusted you enough that he wanted to take his helmet off and reveal his face, and like the Maker damned idiot you were, you said no. Even with the helmet on, you could tell he was hurt. It radiated off him and it was why you had to rush away from him. 
Dank farrik, you were so stupid.
You had panicked. The way Din made you feel in such a short amount of time was terrifying. It wasn’t until Karga shed light on your past that you realized just how much he made you feel. Din brought you a comfort you didn’t know you’d be able to experience. The longer you thought about it the more scared you became⏤ the more worried. You started working for Din a few months ago. That was it. Not even half a year yet. You barely knew Din, and Din barely knew you. Sure, he knew a bit more about you now thanks to Karga, but that was just the surface. 
Your greatest fear was that you were taking advantage of Din. One of the things you did know about him was how protective he was. He showcased it with everyone in his life. The thought that Din was just growing attached to you because you needed comfort⏤ needed protecting⏤ was hardly ideal. Add that to the fact that you were his son’s caretaker. You just didn’t want Din to feel obligated to you in any way. 
These were the thoughts and regrets that plagued you as you sat on a park bench watching Grogu play with a few of the other kids on the playground. You were mildly tempted to bury yourself alive in the sandbox as repentance for the morning. That’d be easier than puzzling out your twisted heart.
“You look like you’re having a hell of a morning.” 
You turned to see Jaen standing at the end of the bench. The young woman had a daughter she had adopted who shared a class with Grogu. Where Jaen had dark skin with short wavy hair, her daughter, Elodie, was a light skinned toddler with blonde curls and bright green eyes. You had grown close with Jaen as Grogu grew close to Elodie. In fact, you could see the little girl was now sitting in the sand with Grogu as they played.
“It went from amazing to bad, shockingly fast.” You admitted. “And it was all my fault.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Jaen sat down beside you, crossing her legs.
You sighed. “It’s Mando. I messed up this morning.”
“You guys have a fight or something?”
You began to explain your morning in vague details. Just enough for Jaen to understand the depth in which you had fucked up. The young woman listened intently and nodded along. “I shouldn’t have panicked like I did. It’s just⏤” You threw your hands up frustrated. “He once told me that the only people who would get to see his face are his children, like Grogu, and his wife. His wife. What does that mean that he wants to show me his face? And⏤And, what if he shows me his face and then regrets it? He’d be choosing me over his Creed in that moment, and if I don’t live up to his expectations then he’s gonna be disappointed and I’m just going to be the woman who made him break his Creed. Again.”
Jaen nodded a few times in thought, humming to herself, then narrowed her eyes at you, “You’re already his wife though, aren’t you?”
“What??” You shook your head.
“I thought you and the Marshal were married and Grogu was your kid.” Jaen replied. “The two of you are always together, you live in the same house, I just assumed…”
“No. No, no. I am not his wife. I’m his son’s nanny.”
Jaen paused a beat then tilted her head. “Are you sure?”
“Well, last time I checked at least.” You scoffed. Jaen’s husband, Dayen, walked up with three cups of caf. He handed the first cup to Jaen then took the one stacked on his other to hand to you. Dayen looked like he could actually be Elodie’s father⏤ his blond hair was a similar shade and his skin was only a bit darker due to working in the sun. “Thank you so much. I really needed this.”
Dayen grinned and Jaen scooted closer to you so he could sit at the end of the bench by her. “No problem, Soran.” After having your talk with Din, it almost felt odd to hear people call you by that name. Something had changed. You had initially taken her name out of guilt⏤ a way to keep her name alive. Now it felt… It felt like it didn’t fit anymore. “You were looking rough. No offense.”
“Oh!” Jaen lightly tapped his chest with the back of her hand. “You’re not gonna believe this. Soran and Mando aren’t together.”
“Yeah, they are.” He argued. “They’re married.” Jaen shook her head and he leaned forward to narrow his eyes at you in confusion. “You’re married, aren’t you?”
You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Apparently, you guys know something I don’t.”
Jaen shifted so her back was to her husband and she could face you. “Alright. So what are you gonna do then?”
“Well,” You slumped in your seat and took a big sip of your caf before speaking again, “I was thinking about burying myself alive in the sandbox before you guys got here.”
“So, we got here in the nick of time, then?” Dayen chuckled.
Jaen shook her head. “Okay, walk me through exactly what happened again. I stopped listening out of shock when I realized the two of you weren’t married.”
You let out a small laugh followed by another sip of caf. Just as you did before, you talked about how your morning went and then you dove into the way it made you feel. This time you couldn’t bite back the list of fears that plagued you. When you finished, Jaen and Dayen were both staring at you with wide eyes.
“I overshared, didn’t I?” You sighed.
“Not an overshare.” Jaen replied. “Just a lot. You have a lot of feelings.”
You buried your face in one hand and groaned. Wasn’t that the epitome of everything that was wrong? Your friend reached out to set her hand on your shoulder and you let your own hand fall away to meet her gaze. Jaen chuckled. “You listed a lot of things you’re worried about, but something tells me that deep down it’s only one that’s holding you back. Everything else is just an add-on excuse.” She shrugged. “You have to figure out what that one thing is and address it. Otherwise, you’re always gonna freeze up.”
“Huh.” You mumbled in thought.
Dayen gave you a thumbs up. “She knows what she’s talking about. Usually.”
“Usually??” Jaen spun back around to glare at him.
“Always. I said, always.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’re so pretty.”
“Uh huh.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the bond between the two of them. It made you think of Din. Even now, unsure and confused and panicked, seeing a moment like this he was the first to come to mind. You wanted that. You wanted to sit on a park bench with him, watching Grogu play, as your fingers tangled with his. The thought overwhelmed you. Why was it so easy for you to feel this way right now, but panic the way you did when Din offered you the first step toward this?
You took another long sip of caf as your brain tried to untangle itself. Grogu and Elodie were in the process of building a sand castle with two other kids. In the distance, you heard the squealing of metal on metal followed by the loud crash of an impact. You stiffened in your seat, everyone in the park following suit, when the sound of a woman screaming filled the air. You recognized that sound. 
“Watch Grogu.” You said as you came to stand. The cup of caf fell to the ground and it spilled as the lid popped off. “Jaen please⏤”
“We will, but⏤” Jaen stood. Dayen was already running to the sand box to grab both children. You took off running as well, but your direction was toward the scream. “Soran! Soran, what are you doing!?”
Faintly, you heard Grogu calling out for you, but you couldn’t stop. You knew Grogu was safe with Jaen and Dayen. That was enough comfort to keep you from hesitating in your forward motion. You sprinted down the street, rushing past people, until you could see Peli’s garage. It wasn’t far from the park. A crowd had formed around the outside of it. 
“Move!” You barked and pushed through the people. They didn’t move quick enough for your liking so you resorted to shoving them. “Get out of my way!” 
When you entered the garage, you could see mechanics standing near the back where something was smoking. You were close enough to hear hysterical sobbing⏤ the voice much too familiar for comfort. When you were kids, Nima had fallen out of a tree and broke her leg. The sound of her scream had been carved into your very being. It was something you’d recognize anywhere. 
The mechanics dove out of your way. A land speeder had careened into the all, cratering the brick it slammed into, and Nima’s right arm was pinned somewhere between the metal and rubble. Peli knelt by her side, yelling into a communicator. There was a flash of panic, it mingled with fear, but it didn’t last nearly as long as you thought it would. You snapped into the role of a healer just like you used to.
“Peli, I need your first aid kit. Get the med droid here as well.” You commanded. Peli rushed away and you slid to Nima’s side. You cupped Nima’s face, strained with pain and streaked with tears and oil, in an attempt to get her attention on you. “Nima. Nima, it’s me. I need you to look at me, hon.” Nima’s wide eyes finally landed on you. “There we go.” She called out your name⏤ your real name⏤ and you nodded. “That’s right. I need you to take some deep breaths with me.”
“It⏤It hurts. Maker, I⏤I⏤ It fucking hurts!” Nima sobbed, her ragged breaths worsened.
“I know, I know.” You set your hand on your chest in hopes the weight of your hand would anchor her. “Breathe. Slow breaths. Match mine, hon. Come on.”
Nima was finally able to listen to your commands, and while she continued you let your eyes dart to where her arm disappeared into the mess of metal. She was pinned below the elbow⏤ her right arm twisted and mangled. Magenta colored blood was dripping onto the garage floor under her at an alarming rate.
You glanced around the crowd until your eyes landed on a mechanic wearing a normal belt. “Here! Now!” He jumped in alarm and rushed forward. You pulled your hand away from Nima, she sobbed at the loss of touch, and you ripped the belt off him before shoving him back. “This is gonna hurt. Stay with me. Talk to me.”
As you began to create a tourniquet, Nima screamed bloody murder. You softly reassured her while keeping your hands firm and confident in your movements. You pushed her to start talking again and she began to stumble over her words.
“I messed up⏤ I⏤ I messed up.” Nima gasped. Peli finally arrived with the first aid kit and she reassured you that the droid was on his way. After being repaired, it was the only source of medical care on this rock. Other than you. “I tried⏤ I tried to stop it. I should’ve let go. I should’ve let go. My arm. My arm⏤ My arm⏤”
“Hush, girl!” Peli scolded. “Don’t think about that. Walk me through a strip down of an engine. The Razor Crest’s engine. How’re we gonna fix that? From the top!”
You were thankful for Peli’s intrusion. While she listened to Nima struggle through explaining the mechanical work, you focused on the injury. First things first, you needed to get the bike off her. The longer she was pinned the worse it would be when she was finally released. Her bone and muscle were crushed and it would end up unbalancing the electrolytes in her blood once released. 
“Hey, all of you. Grab the bike. Pull on my mark.” You yelled. The mechanics rushed to help and when they seemed to have a solid grip you checked to make sure the tourniquet was firmly in place. Rather than give her warning, you gave the mark for the mechanics to pull back. The land speeder slid out of the wall in a Maker awful sound as the torn metal scratched against the garage floor, but you could barely hear that over Nima’s horrific screams of pain. Her voice was hoarse and raw. You and Peli pulled her away from the pool of blood. As you dragged her, she passed out⏤ her head lolling to her chest. You laid her on her back and examined her arm. It was barely recognizable. Her wrist was bent at an odd angle, fingers all broken, and blood seeped out of her torn flesh and muscle. 
The worst sense of realization washed over you.
Nima was going to lose her lower arm if she didn’t get treated right now. You lifted your communicator up to speak into it and noticed then that Nima’s blood was splattered up your own arms. Fingers stained magenta. Ignoring it, you typed in the number for the clinic. Thankfully, the voice you wanted to hear answered.
“Aayla?” You cried.
“Oh, Doc! I just sent the med droid your way. Peli called us. What⏤”
“I need you to get the bacta tank up and running.”
“The bacta⏤ It hasn’t been used in months though.”
“I’ll walk you through resetting it. Get there now.” You said. The sound of her quick, muffled movements filled the air and when she said she was there you began to give her instructions. Maker, when was the last time you worked out the measurements of a bacta tank? As you instructed, you used the tools in the first aid kit to wrap soaked, sterile gauze around her arm to protect the injury. You did the mental math quickly and listed off the numbers for Aayla to use. “Did that work? Describe it to me.”
“Uh, something is happening. The screen says processing and it’s making some kind of whining noise.”
It was working. “Good. I’ll be there soon.”
“Move it!” A familiar voice shouted. You glanced over your shoulder to see Mayfeld approaching with the med droid by his side. His eyes landed on you, then Nima, then back to you in shock. “Soran?? What the kriff is going on?! What happ⏤”
“Later, Mayfeld.” You pushed to stand. “She needs to be at the clinic right now.”
He only hesitated a second more before he grabbed the floating stretcher that the med droid had brought with it. The med droid drifted closer and you could tell he was scanning Nima’s prone body. He chirped out. “Patient’s vitals are stable. However, injury to right lower arm is extensive. Amputation will be necessary.”
“She’s going into a bacta tank. She’ll be fine as long as we get her in it in the next few minutes. Then I can monitor and assess from there.” You argued. 
You and Peli bent over to help Mayfeld scoop Nima up and get her onto the stretcher without jostling her too much. The droid hummed in casual disagreement. “I am not authorized to establish or monitor a bacta tank. That is limited to a program beyond myself and⏤”
“I’m a physician! License code 32RJ90012.” You snapped, ignoring the weight of eyes on you. “You listen to me.”
The droid nodded. “Yes, Doctor.” 
“Now, let’s go.” You hurried out of the garage as Mayfeld kept pace with you pushing Nima on the stretcher. You were going to save Nima and her arm. There was no room for hesitation, no room for self-doubt, and no room for error.
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Din Djarin was going to commit homicide this morning. Already, he was over today after his blunder with you. After you had left with Grogu he had fallen into bed in hopes that he could sleep away his regret and disappointment. Only a few hours had passed when he was awoken by a banging on his front door. It wasn’t that he needed more sleep, he was well acquainted with little to no sleep, it was the principle of the thing. Din didn’t want to be disturbed and whoever was pounding their fist on his door repeatedly was going to be shot and left for dead on his porch.
After pulling on his armor, he stormed to the front of his house and ripped the door open. Greef Karga stood there with a casual look of nonchalance on his features. Karga gave him a smile in greeting and Din reminded himself that it would be a bad look for the Marshal of Nevarro to shoot the High Magistrate dead. If he did, the city might expect him to rise in the ranks and Din would rather die himself than lead this city.
“You’re not allowed to knock on my door anymore, Karga.” Din barked in irritation.
Karga’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mando. You’re in a rather foul mood. Don’t tell me I interrupted you again.” Din’s hand clenched on the door frame. People always assumed he was a patient man when quite the opposite was true. Din was quick to anger, quick to any emotion really, but the beskar he wore acted as a mask he could hide behind and he had grown very, very good at controlling himself. The bad news with that was that people overestimated how far they could push him. Karga swept past him into the house and Din slammed the door shut. Karga scoffed, “Really, Mando. No need to be so cross. I did exactly as you asked and stayed far away from the Doctor Nanny, as promised.”
“Then why the kriff are you here?” Din spat. If Karga had come to bother you about a job again his self-control would shatter to pieces. 
“I’m here for business with you, old friend.” Din simply crossed his arms at Karga’s words. The man sighed and pulled a puck from his robe pocket. “We have eyes on Daelar.”
Din caught the puck when it was tossed to him and activated it. “Where is he?”
“Hiding out even further in the Outer Rim, if you can believe in.” Karga replied. “A little out of the way, but I got eyes all over. He didn’t stand a chance.”
Din rolled the idea around in his head. Now that would be quite the way to work out his anger and frustration. Daelar signed his death certificate the moment he abandoned you and Grogu. Maker knows Din had killed for less in the past. A good man would let that rage go. A good man would turn Daelar into the authorities and get his license taken away. A good man wouldn’t commit to murder quite so quickly. But, as it had already been established, he was not a good man.
“What’re you planning on doing to him?” Karga questioned. Din didn’t respond. He had no reason to and the less people knew the better. When the High Magistrate realized he was not going to receive an answer he huffed. “I thought finding this news out would put you in a better mood. Where’s my little buddy? He’ll be happy to see me. He napping?”
“He’s at the park.” Din replied.
Karga’s eyes widened. “You’re off so she should be off as well, shouldn’t she? You do give her time off, don’t you?”
Din had a smartass remark hanging from his lips, but he swallowed it as the thought occurred to him. He always assumed you took care of Grogu on Saturdays as well because of a desire to be with the child, but he had never outright asked you. Most of his days off, all three of you would end up at the park or spending time at home. Had you experienced a proper day off yet? Did you feel obligated to continue caring for Grogu because he hadn’t specified that it wasn’t your responsibility on his days off? Din just enjoyed spending time with you and loved having the two people he cared for most in this galaxy within his reach on his day off. After what happened this morning, Din was drowning in doubt. When you dragged the edge of his helmet back down over his head you might as well have shoved his head underwater. 
The ringing of a communicator snapped Din out of the haze he had fallen into and he lifted his vambrace, but it was Karga who was receiving a message. He watched curiously as Karga’s face fell while reading. Din stiffened, “What’s going on?”
“We have to get to the clinic now.” Karga marched for the door and Din didn’t hesitate to follow. “Nima was injured.”
It didn’t take the two of them very long to make it into the clinic and the first person Din spotted was Peli standing by the front desk arguing with the medical tech he had met before. Aayla was her name? Peli slammed a hand down on the front desk’s counter.
“She’s my employee, why can’t I kriffing go and see her!?”
“The patient is currently in a bacta tank and per physician orders⏤”
“I don’t give a damn⏤”
“Peli.” Din called out. The curly haired woman turned around and her face was drawn in lines of frustration and panic. Karga drifted away when he spotted Mayfeld talking to a few mechanics off to the side. “Talk to me.”
Peli shook her head. “Nima basically lost her kriffing arm and this tail head won’t let me through!”
Din held his hands out in a calming motion and nodded his head reassuringly. “I’m sure there’s a reason you can’t go back yet. They’re probably limiting visitors for the time being.” He wondered if you were back there with Nima. Did you know what had happened? Maybe he needed to call you. “I’ll step back⏤”
“The doc said nobody is allowed back yet, Marshal.” Aayla said.
Peli motioned to the Twi’lek as if to say ‘see’, and Din sighed. The older mechanic shoved him all of a sudden and Din was alarmed to be at the receiving end of her anger. “Go tell your nanny to let us back right now or so help me⏤”
“Wait, what?” He blurted.
“Who the kriff do you think is back there right now?? It sure as hell ain’t the med droid!”
You had… Dank farrik. Worry and concern mingled in his chest in an uncomfortable way. Awkwardness born from this morning aside, that didn’t stop how he felt. It didn’t stop him from caring. He remembered how broken you had been after Grogu. He turned back to the desk to see that Aayla had disappeared. 
Din shook his head. “What happened??”
“Land speeder malfunctioned. Shot off like a rocket. Nima tried to stop it by grabbing onto the handlebars to hit the brake, but it just dragged her along.” Peli crossed her arms with a frown. “Pinned her to the wall.” Din grimaced. Maker, that was bad. He didn’t spend much time with Nima anymore, he used to see her often when he would go to pick up Grogu from Peli, but he hoped the young mechanic was alright. “Your girl sprinted in out of nowhere and just took charge. She said she was a doctor. That true??”
Din hesitated before coming up with an answer. It wasn’t his place to admit⏤ even if you had already kind of blurted it out. Aayla’s voice chirped out as she returned and she shot him a small smile. “Doc says you can come back, Marshal.”
Peli grumbled under her breath and Din paused long enough to squeeze the woman’s shoulder reassuringly before rushing back. The first room he entered from the doors had been the one Grogu was in when he was here, but now it was empty. Against the back wall, he could see a door cracked open. Din quickly crossed the room and stuck his head into the small space.
Nima was floating in a bacta tank, peaceful and stable, while you sat cross legged on a stool with your forehead leaning against the tank’s glass. At his entrance, you lifted your gaze and he could see your brow creased with worry. Briefly, his anxiety held him back. He couldn’t rid himself of the way you looked at him when you stopped him from lifting his helmet this morning. Din shoved that to the back of his mind. This wasn’t about him. His feelings and desires did not matter a bit right now.
Din shut the door behind him as he drew closer and he dropped to one knee to kneel in beside you. You shifted on the stool so you faced him. He nodded, “How is she?”
“She’s gonna be alright.” You shrugged. “Her lower arm was wrecked, but I think we got her here in time. It’ll be a little while before I see if the bacta tank is going to heal her arm.” You wrung your hands together and Din could see dried flecks of magenta blood against your skin. It was only then that he noticed you had changed out of your clothes into a pair of random scrubs. “I had to set her arm and I did my best, but it was crushed to pieces. I don’t know if it’ll heal right.”
“I’m sure you did fine.” He said softly. Din had the urge to pull you into his arms, offer comfort, but he resisted. Instead, he wrapped his hands around the bar between the stool’s legs by your feet.
“How did you know to come?”
“Karga paid me a visit. Mayfeld must have called him to notify him about the injury.”
“Oh.”
Din briefly glanced around, “Where is⏤”
“Jaen and Dayen have Grogu. He was playing at the park with Elodie when…” Your voice trailed off as you swallowed hard. Din recognized those names and knew his son was in good hands for the time being. You shrugged. “I already called them and they said they’d bring him here after getting the kids lunch.”
Din’s fists tightened around the stool. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Ner kar’ta.” Din pressed. The name felt right. Even if you wanted nothing to do with him it didn’t alter the change you made to his heart. You had taken it, like a thief in the night, and no circumstance would ever bring Din to try and take that back. It belonged to you⏤ It would always belong to you.
You rubbed your face and forced a smile. “I’m really not that bad. Not like last time. I’m worried about Nima because I love her, but…” You sighed. “If I hadn’t been there. It would’ve been awful. The med droid can’t operate a bacta tank.” Din nodded but didn’t speak. He could see you had more to say. “I didn’t even think of Soran while I…”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Din asked.
“Yeah. It made me remember why I went into medicine in the first place. I wanted to save people. Make a difference in the world around me.” You said. Din held back the words that came to mind. You already made a difference in the world. Your existence alone bettered the world around you⏤ bettered the lives of the people you knew. “I realized something else too.” Din waited. Your hand lifted to rub the scar over your collarbone. “I come up with all these excuses to try and avoid the real problem. I don’t want to face my fear alone so I surrounded myself in dozens of different problems as a distraction to myself. I was never running from Medicine. I was never running from myself, Din.”
“What were you running from, ner kar’ta?” His question came out in a soft whisper.
For a moment, the only sound came from the bubbling of the bacta tank. You wrung your hands once more, nervously, and Din had to once again resist the urge to tangle his fingers with yours. Give you something to hold onto. “Kurt. I was running from Kurt.” He knew the name. In your file, the name of the man who brought you to court to try and take away your license had been Kurt. Din made the connection when your hand lifted again to touch the scar. “He tried to kill me.”
If Din thought he had been angry before, he was wrong. He could feel his blood boiling within his beskar armor. The thought of someone even laying their hands on you filled him with more rage than he should be allowed to feel, but the fact that there was a person out in the galaxy who had actively tried to kill you⏤ to take you out of this world⏤ made his teeth clench. His back molars threatened to crack with how tense his jaw had grown.
“You don’t have to be angry about it.” You murmured. People always confused his measured anger for patience, but not you. You always seemed to know how he felt under the helmet regardless of how quiet he kept himself. “He’s on trial right now for it. I don’t know the details. Nima actually knows more because I don’t like keeping up with it and she says someone has to.” You shrugged. “When he was… hurting me,” Din sucked in a sharp breath to try and maintain some semblance of control, “He said all this terrible stuff. How it was my fault, and I deserved to die because of it. He was the reason I blamed myself for so long. I think a part of me still does.”
“That wasn’t⏤”
“I know.” You chuckled. “I’m doing so much better since we spoke, you did so much for me, but some days are better than others. I think it’ll always be that way. One day I’ll wake up and I‘ll understand it was out of my hands, and on some other day I’ll wake up and blame myself. I don’t think there’s a cure for that.”
Despite talking about your pained past, you wore a small smile on your face and Din had never felt such pride at seeing a smile. Maker, you were strong. You were his heart, and you were so kriffing strong. He wanted to put it into words and express that to you, but he didn’t know how. Dank farrik. Din relied so much on action and not being able to touch you, reassure you, share his pride in you, left him feeling like he had lost one of his senses entirely. 
“And, Din, about this morning,” Your smile faltered and Din stiffened, “I’m so sorry⏤”
“No. Don’t.” Din blurted and shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. I do. I shouldn’t have pressured you into anything⏤ I should have asked before⏤”
You reached out and set a hand on his shoulder, close to his neck, and he could feel the weight of you through his cloak and flight suit. “Din, you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. I panicked because…” You squeezed his shoulder. “I did the same thing again. Came up with a bunch of issues and doubts because I was scared to admit what the real problem was.” Din’s mouth grew dry and it felt like his heart was going to literally beat out of his chest. He didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel, but the flicker of hope was a dangerous thing. Din didn’t think he’d survive extinguishing twice. Finally, you spoke, “I’m scared⏤ terrified⏤ that I’ll become a burden and disappointment to you.”
Din blinked in shock. Of all the words that existed in Basic that you could string together, he never expected that sentence. A burden? A disappointment?? Never. You could never be either. He was at a loss for words. How could he show you how he felt? How could he make you understand what you meant to him?
“I know right now you consider yourself an Apostate.” You said. He noticed the way you stressed the word ‘you’. As if trying to make it clear that it was not the same belief you held. “So, maybe it makes showing your face easier, but I⏤ I don’t want to push you further from your Creed. I know how much it means to you, how important it is, and I would hate myself if I became a barrier between you and it.”
“Ner kar’ta⏤”
“And what if we drift apart? I’d just be the woman who took advantage of a moment⏤ who accepted something that I wasn’t sure you were even ready to give.”
Din shook his head. “That isn’t the case. I am ready. I⏤ I care for you.” Maker, why was it so hard to speak? “This wouldn’t become something I regret. You could never be something I regret.”
You startled him by sliding off the stool forcing his hands away from the bar. You knelt in front of him and lifted your hands up to his neck. Your thumb brushed against the skin right under his helmet where his shirt didn’t quite reach. Din sucked in a breath at the contact. It meant more because it was you who initiated it.
“Your face isn’t a factor in what I think of you.” You said firmly. “What you look like under there, it will never change how I see you. I already know the kind of man you are. When I⏤ If I get to see your face…” Din noticed the slip up. The eventuality. He almost wanted to correct you. There was no ‘if’ about this. “I don’t want it to go against your Creed. I don’t want it to be a sin that requires redeeming.”
If Din wasn’t being held up by his heavy, beskar armor he was sure he would’ve melted into your arms. For the first time in a long time, he was relieved he wore a helmet because he didn’t want you to see the way his eyes began to water. Din always assumed that unless he found someone within the covert, he would have to choose between love and his Creed. He had resolved himself to that fact and understood that meant he might never have love.
Meeting you was the first time since Grogu that he was willing to show his face. You were, without a doubt, the first woman he had met who tempted him to cast aside his Creed⏤ a feat he didn’t think would ever be possible. Once he fell into your orbit, he was caught and there was nothing that would pull him away from you. Din was sure even you weren’t aware of the power you held over him. He would go to war with his bare hands if you commanded it. He would cross the galaxy ten times over if it meant bringing you any shred of happiness. But, instead of making him choose a part of himself, you accepted every bit of him. You understood the respect he had for his Creed and you would not force him to walk away from it. More than just that, you stopped him from making the decision he thought he had to make. You made him realize that he shouldn’t have to sacrifice a part of himself to deserve love.
“Can I touch you, ner kar’ta?” Din asked in a voice too quiet and hoarse for his liking.
“You never have to ask, Din.” You replied. 
Din collapsed into you. He pressed his head against your chest and wrapped his arms around you. When your own arms came to cradle him, your chin resting on the top of his helmet, Din let out a shuddering breath. Your hand held the back of his neck, finding that small sliver of skin once more, and he felt your fingers brush against the hair that sat at the nape of his neck. Din could’ve stayed like this forever, but too soon you began to pull away.
“Will you stay with me?” You asked. “It’ll be an hour or so until I’m able to see what direction Nima’s condition is moving in, and I don’t want to leave her side.”
Din’s throat was still tight, unshed tears lining his lashes, and he didn’t trust his voice. He dragged himself a few feet away to lean against the wall and held a hand out to you. He could see your shoulders sag in relief, an invisible weight being lifted, and you crawled toward him. Rather than settling next to him, you placed yourself between his legs and leaned back against his chest. You lightly grasped his arms to pull around you in a hold and you didn’t need to tell him to keep his grip there. Din squeezed around your waist while you held onto his arm. Your fingers tracing the lines of his vambrace. A comfortable silence surrounded the both of you and Din took in a steadying breath. 
This wasn’t a crush or infatuation. This was something special. A part of him always knew, but he had never felt more confirmation of that then he did right now. This was unique and he had to do this the right way. Din wanted to do right by you, provide for you, and in order to properly court you like a Mandalorian should he’d need to find his Creed once more.
Din needed to find redemption.
He needed to go to Mandalore.
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mando’a translations
Epar : Eat Buir : Father Parjii : Winner Tsikador : get ready Ad’ika: little one Ner kar’ta : my heart
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A/N: This is the first chapter that feels like a real chapter to me. I love all the other ones, don’t get me wrong, but if you know me from AO3 at all you know I like to pick a theme and then explore that theme in a single chapter which makes my chapters unusually long. I got to do that with this one and it makes me so so happy. Hopefully it made y’all happy too🥰
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@aheadfullofsteverogers​ @yyiikes​ @kneelforloki​ @c-ms1ut​ @sgt-morgan​ @luthienaliceisilra​ @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay​ @coldlamaspersonspy​ @dilfsaremyfavourite​ @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover​ @teawrites01​ @emily-roberts​ @djarinxore​ @impala1967666​ @shelbyteller @faithrenner​ @dindjarindude​ @dankfarrick29​ @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo​ @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace​ @onceinamando​ @catharinaroxastova​ @uwu-i-purple-you​ @modiddys-blog​ @harriedandharassed​ @stagerightlauren​
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magicamicitia · 2 months
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Volume One, Chapter One
“I’m a magical girl!”
The clock striked at four.
Sunset Shimmer stared into the distance, and she saw nothing but darkness. Tightening the grasp on her sword, she swallowed the anxiety inside her.
The clock striked at five.
Her vision was blurry, and she could feel tears falling onto her face. Who was crying? She felt like she wanted to cry too.
The clock striked at six.
Sunset could feel herself being carried away by someone. Away from the darkness. But she felt like they were going the wrong way. She catches a glimpse of a crystal school before it disappeared into the night.
The clock striked at seven.
An alarm rang;
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Sunset Shimmer opens her eyes, trying to understand her surroundings.
“Huh…? A dream?”
Beep! Beep! Beep!
“Alright, I get it! Geez, can a girl not have a nightmare in peace anymore?!” She shouts while angrily pressing the off switch on the alarm clock.
She stops for a moment, trying to recall what she saw in her slumber. But the memory of it has already faded away. She shakes her head to free herself from the trance, and gets out of bed.
Today is the start of her second semester at Canterlot High.
After a long shower, Sunset heads to her kitchen to make some breakfast before going to school. She decides to turn on the news while cooking, a habit she grew living alone in this strange world for so long.
“Breaking News; yesterday, and around four-thirty in the morning, the prestigious Crystal Prep Academy suffered a mysterious terrorist attack that killed twenty-seven employees and injured thirty more while on their night shift. Authorities urge civilians to stay away from the building, as smoke clouds are still present. The police has not yet found a culprit, and specialists have so far failed to identify what caused the explosion that destroyed the entire building.”
Sunset quickly turned around at the sound of those words.
“Crystal prep? Isn’t that the school Twilight was transferred from? I wonder if she’s doing okay… I should send her a text.”
She reached for her phone, but before she could unlock it, the numbers on the screen caused her to stop.
“SEVEN FORTY?! Dang it, I’m gonna be late!”
Picking up her things in a rush, Sunset quickly tumbled out of the house, silently scolding herself for not paying attention to the time.
At the front doors of Canterlot High, a young girl nervously adjusted her glasses, staring at the floor.
“Twilight!” Someone called out.
The girl looked up, recognizing the familiar voice.
“Sunset!”
The two friends ran to each other enthusiastically.
“Wow, I haven’t seen you all summer break! You look tired, have you been partying a lot?” Sunset said with a sarcastic tone.
Twilight seemed startled by that comment.
“Huh? Ah, no… I was just… Studying, is all.”
“Hah! Of course you were, ya big nerd. Oh, on another note, um… have you heard? About, you know…”
The smile on Twilight Sparkle’s face vanished.
“I have.”
“Is your brother… Okay?”
“He’s... Healthy. He was at home when it happened, but we heard Cadance was in the hospital today, and he hasn’t taken it well. None of us have.”
“Ah, that’s gotta be rough. I know how important she is to all of you.”
“Yeah, well… we’re managing. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
They both stared at the ground in awkward silence for a few seconds, until Twilight shook her head and began,
“Never mind that. Sulking too much is gonna affect our studies on our first day! You- We’re okay and that’s what matters. Let’s head in, right?”
“Oh,” Sunset relaxed a bit. “Yeah yeah, let’s go.”
As they walked in, she couldn’t help but notice Twilight seemed to be acting off. Sunset knows her friend has a tendency to bottle things up to not worry other people, and all this stress must have been getting to her. A thought crossed her mind.
I should buy Twi a snack later to cheer her up.
As the bell rang at the end of the day, Sunset Shimmer sent her friend a message to meet her in front of the Sugarcube Corner Bakery, confident that some cupcakes and coffee could help her back to her old self. She had to be careful though, as one of her classmates, Pinkie Pie, was often seen around there, and Sunset wouldn’t want other people seeing this side of her…
“Huh?”
Why did she have a ‘side’ in the first place?
Why push others away like that?
There was a reason. An important reason. What was it again? Her head hurt thinking about it…
“Wait, where am I?”
Sunset looked around, realizing she had taken a wrong turn in the midst of her thoughts. Now in an old empty street instead of the colorful commercial disctrict.
“Well, this place is creepy. I should go back… What the-!”
Turning around, the scenery around her changed again. And wherever she went, it kept morphing… and twisting… and turning into something even more bizarre and nonsensical. A sense of dread overwhelmed her.
“I gotta get out of here NOW!”
But no matter how much she tried, Sunset felt like she was stuck running in place. Odd figures seemed to laugh at her struggle, and she cursed everyone and everything she could think of until she tripped and fell down onto the ground.
The figures slowly approached her in her weakened state, like predators carefully preparing an attack on their prey. Sunset, despite her confusion, shakingly got up and entered a fighting stance, even though she knew she had no way of fighting those things. Suddenly, a streak of light cut through the air, dismembering the monsters.
The girl searched puzzled for the source of her salvation, and her eyes laid on a familiar figure.
“Twilight?!”
The awkward nerdy schoolgirl she knew had a determined look in her eyes, with a dazzling outfit and a bladed shield which she yielded with an uncanny familiarity. Upon hearing her friend’s call, she turned around and her expression changed into the smile she was much more acquainted with.
“Sunset! Are you alright?”
“I am physically, but… What the hell is going on here? What are you wearing? Since when do you fight?! What are these things?!?!”
“I-I’ll explain everything, I swear! But we have to run, now!” She took her puzzled friend’s hand and guided her away from the mysterious labyrinth.
Once they reached an open and non-weirded-out area, Sunset took a few seconds to catch her breath before asking;
“What the hell was that?!”
Twilight panted.
“That was… Well…”
“A witch’s labyrinth!” A third voice added.
Sunset looked down. Her eyes widened to the size of a tea saucer.
“Is that. A talking cat.”
The nerdy girl smiled awkwardly.
“Um… Ahaha…”
“Twilight.”
“…Yeah?”
“What exactly… Are you?”
“Well…” she scratched her chin. “I’m a magical girl!”
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AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?
I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.
The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.
Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.
The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.
Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.
I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.
PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.
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7ndipity · 9 months
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You Get Hate From The Fans
Jimin x Reader
Summary: After months of harassment from toxic fans, you can't help but wonder whether it would better for you and Jimin to part ways.
Warnings: angst, crying, mentions of harassment, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I honestly got a little too in my feels as I was writing this, I always hate making Chim cry, even if things work out in the end.😭
Masterlist
Requests are open
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You had been unusually quiet all night, making Jimin increasingly worried. At first he thought maybe you weren’t feeling well, but as the evening pressed on, he could tell there was clearly something bothering you as you seemed to withdraw more and more into yourself.
“Will you please tell me what’s wrong?” He finally asked, coming to sit by you on the couch.
“I don’t know if I wanna say it.” You said, not meeting his eyes.
He took your hand. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything, I won’t judge.”
You shut your eyes, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. God, why did he have to make this so hard?
“What if we… broke up?” Your voice came out barely above a whisper.
You felt him flinch as if you’d slapped him. “What?!” He gasped.
“It’s too much, I-I can’t do it. Everyone keeps saying that you’d be better off without me...”
“Everyone who? What are you saying?” He asked, tears evident in his voice. “Please, look at me, y/n.” He pleaded.
Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his, your whole body shaking from the effort it took not to fall to pieces.
“Talk to me. What’s happened?” He begged.
And just like that, the dam broke. All the pain and frustration poured out as you began to sob into his chest, the whole story coming out in broken bits and pieces.
For months, you’d borne the brunt of so-called army's hateful comments. At first, you’d tried to just ignore them, aware that it was one of the hazards of dating an idol, but as time went on, they became more and more aggressive and cruel, attacking everything about your appearance and personality. You had tried to cope and keep the comments to yourself, knowing how much it would upset Jimin, but there was only so much you could take.
“I know that they wouldn’t go away completely if we broke up, but… I didn’t know what else to do.” You concluded, leaning weakly against Jimin as he held onto you tightly.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” He asked, crying with you.
“I didn’t wanna make things worse.” You hiccuped. ”You already have so much going on, and I didn’t want to be another weight on your back.”
“Stop that! That’s what they want you to think, but it’s not true, nothing could be further from the truth.” He rocked you both as he spoke. “You give me so much strength, I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, I had no idea.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You whispered, but he shook his head.
“What matters now is we need to stand together against this, okay? I’m not gonna leave you to fight on your own.” He promised you, wiping your tears. “Not ever.”
You nodded. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, not loosening his hold on you till long after you'd fallen asleep.
He put out a formal statement later that same evening, stating that anyone who was actually a fan or supporter of him would never treat someone he cared about this way, or anyone else for that matter. He said how disappointed he was with the individuals in question, and how any further harassment would be met with legal action.
He also took several days off to stay with you and make sure you were okay. He'd made a vow that night to you and himself that he would do everything in his power to protect you.
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sturn1olo-ffics · 9 months
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“That’s The Way I Loved You”
- Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns used)
- based off the song “The Way I Loved You” Taylor’s Version by Taylor Swift
- WARNINGS: kissing (making out ‼️), mentions of fighting/arguing, crying, break up but happy ending; NOT PROOFREAD
- ABOUT: Chris and y/n get into a huge fight over Instagram comments and she breaks up with him. A month after, y/n decides it’s time to put herself out there again. She finds a great guy, but he’s just not Chris. That’s when she realizes what she really wants.
“I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain. And it’s 2am and I’m cursing your name. So in love that you act insane. And that’s the way I loved you.”
(Y/N’s POV)
I sat down on my couch after a long day and decided to open up my phone and check Instagram. My notifications were blowing up and I didn’t know why.
Chris posted a picture of you at dinner the night before with the caption: “My girl.”
You smile and feel butterflies swarm your stomach as you like the post and comment “Cringe 🤓” just joking around with him.
You check the comments, only to see hate comment after hate comment being left.
User332: “Bro she’s not even pretty”
y/nhater617: “why is he lowering his standards for her 💀”
User984: “i hope they break up soon fr”
————————————————————————————
{ iMESSAGE }
Chris: Hey you free tonight or ??
Y/n: You wanna come over?
Chris: Ok mind listener
Y/n: You mean mind reader 😭😭
Chris: Whatever. I’ll be there at 5
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(Time passes)
Chris was over at my house. He was leaned up against my counter and I was sitting on the island across from him.
Scrolling through TikTok, I realize that this is a good time to tell him how I’ve been feeling about his Instagram comments.
“Hey, can we talk about something that’s been bothering me?” I said with a frown.
“Uh- yeah sure. What’s wrong?” Chris said worriedly as he stepped closer toward me.
“I just- you’re Instagram comments are always full of people hating on me… and I was just wondering if-” I started to say before he cut me off.
“Just ignore ‘em” he says in a nonchalant manner, like he didn’t care at all.
“Can you tell them to stop or at least turn your comments off?” I asked in response.
“What? No. I’m not turning my comments off on Instagram. And there’s nothing I can say that will actually get them to stop.” Chris said in a defensive, almost angry tone.
“Can you at least try?” I started to get fed up.
“Y/n. Not everything is going to be perfect just for you.” the words slipped out of his mouth.
“What?” I said, tears filling my eyes.
“Y/n, I meant that I just can’t do anything about it. What do you want me to do? Become a magic wizard and cast a spell on all these little girls to stop hating on you? Even if I could, I still wouldn’t care enough.” Chris yelled.
“Wouldn’t care enough?” I said softly, tears falling out my eyes and running down my cheeks.
“Y/n- it’s just this kinda stuff is what you have to deal with- it’s like character development. It’s a part of life- a part of my life at least-” he started to say before I slid off the counter and started to walk away.
“I’m also a part of your life. And if this is what it’s going to be like, then I don’t want to be anymore.” I said while opening up my front door, signaling him out.
“Y/n, what? You’re gonna break up with me over this?” he said quickly.
“I just can’t right now, Chris.” I responded as he walked out and I closed the door behind him.
I slid down the back of my door, salty tears rolling one after another out of my eyes.
We had gotten in fights before, screaming at each other even, but this one was final.
(ONE MONTH LATER)
I met a boy while I was at the grocery store. His name was Henry and he was really cute and seemed super sweet. We got each others numbers and started hanging out almost every day.
—————————————————————————————
{ iMESSAGE }
Henry: Hi!! I’ll pick you up at 6 if that’s okay?
Y/n: Sounds great! Can’t wait.
—————————————————————————————
But the truth is, I could wait.
He’s sensible and so incredible. And all my single friends are jealous. But something just felt off, every time we were together.
It’s been a month since me and Chris broke up, and I knew I wanted to put myself out there. So why did this superhero of a guy just not seem like enough?
I started to think about Chris more and more. Which is weird because I started to not care about the break up about a week after it happened. I always seemed to move on quickly for some reason.
I picked my phone up and shot Henry a quick text, asking him for a rain check.
It actually was pouring down raining outside, so I figured he wouldn’t question it.
I put on “10 Things I Hate About You” and plopped down on my couch with a bowl of popcorn and a Pepsi.
Pepsi was Chris’ favorite drink, and it grew on me over time as well.
“I hate it when you’re not around and the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.” the TV starts to play as I tear up.
Chris.
All I could think about was Chris.
He flooded my mind.
But why?
I started to get up and make my way to the fridge to grab the container of strawberries I was craving, but noticed I had already eaten them all.
“Great.” I said to myself. I really wanted those strawberries.
There was a grocery store at the end of my street, so I knew I could just walk down there and grab some.
I gather my things in my purse, put my shoes on, and grab my umbrella because it’s practically storming.
I reached for the doorknob, but before I could grab it, 3 knocks sounded at my door.
“Bruh I asked him for a raincheck. No way Henry’s outside my door right now.” I thought to myself.
I turned the knob and opened my front door, only to find Chris standing there. Soaked head to toe from the rain.
“Hi” he said out of breath.
“Chris?” I was confused.
“I take it you’re about to go hang out with Henry” he said, turning around.
“No, actually… I cancelled on him.” I said sharply.
Chris turned around and stared at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him.
“I- I don’t know. One minute, I was playing Fortnite on Twitch. And the next I was putting my shoes on to come here. I think I just-” he was saying before I cut him off with a kiss.
He leaned into the kiss almost immediately. Both of us getting soaked from the rain. But we didn’t care. We just craved each other.
He pulled back and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. One hand on my waist, the other on my back pulling me impossibly closer to him.
The kiss lasted for what felt like an hour, but was really 30 seconds.
“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us.” I said with a smile, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.
He smiled back and pulled me into a longing hug.
“How about we go inside and dry off huh?” he joked.
“That, and you need to help me figure out how to let Henry down nicely.” I laughed.
“I love you, y/n” he said pausing his footsteps.
My heart jumped. He had never said this before.
“I love you too, Chris” I said with a smile.
—————————————————————————————
A/n: Hey guys! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’m trying to make my fics better, so let me know what I could change. Also, let me know what you wanna see next.
Thank you for 80 notes on my last fic!!!
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bradshawsbaby · 1 year
Text
baby mine
pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader
author’s note: been feeling very inspired by lewis rhett lately, and also in the mood for some angst, so here is where we ended up!
warnings: angst with a happy ending, pregnancy, blood, fear of miscarriage, medical crisis, rhett attempting to pray, and a little smattering of fluff
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If anyone had asked you to describe your experience of pregnancy, you would have summed it up as follows:
It was easy until it wasn’t.
Your first trimester had been a breeze. Beyond a couple of queasy mornings, quickly remedied by dry toast and some fresh air, you didn’t experience morning sickness at all. In fact, you woke up every morning more chipper than usual, to the point that Rhett often checked that you didn’t have some sort of fever. He even wondered aloud over breakfast one day if you’d been getting sick in secret, so surprised was he at your perfect health.
“Not every woman gets morning sickness, baby,” you’d laughed, running your fingers through his hair as you stood over him to refill his coffee cup.
“Well aren’t you a lucky one?” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your still-flat stomach.
You were. For a while.
As the weeks, and then months slipped by, your belly grew rounder and rounder as your pregnancy progressed, all the ultrasounds and tests coming back to show that you were carrying a perfectly healthy baby girl.
“She’s glowing, Rhett,” Cecilia often commented whenever you and your husband visited the Abbott ranch for dinner.
“I didn’t even know a pregnant lady could be that happy,” Perry added one night, chuckling as he watched you and Amy playing in the living room, Amy showing you a project she’d been working on in school. “Rebecca was miserable the entire time she was carrying Amy, I swear.”
Rhett just smiled in response, like he always did. “That’s my honeybee,” he murmured proudly, catching your eye and winking at you.
No morning sickness. No weird cravings or aversions to any of your favorite foods. No major mood swings beyond what you were already used to. No massive weight gain. It was like you were walking on a cloud.
“Better watch out, honeybee,” Rhett teased one day when the two of you drove to town to grab lunch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he bent his head to whisper in your ear. “I think Katie Hamilton’s gonna make a voodoo doll of you and poke it with pins every night before bed,” he chuckled, subtly nodding his head in the direction of one of your childhood classmates. Nemesis probably would have been a more apt description.
Lifting your eyes, you glanced across the diner, where you were standing in wait for a table, and caught sight of Katie, who was glaring daggers at you. The two of you had never really gotten along, but her look was particularly venomous today.
“What’s her problem?” you muttered, raising your eyebrows as you turned to look back at Rhett. “I haven’t done anything to her. Lately.”
Your husband just laughed, shaking his head as he smoothed one hand over your swollen belly. “That’s pure jealousy, honeybee. Because you look like a damn goddess right now, and she got fat,” he smirked. Rhett had never forgiven Katie Hamilton for all the times she’d made you cry back when you were growing up.
“Rhett,” you scolded, poking him in the side and trying to hide the way your lips were twitching in amusement.
There was a strange sense of justice in Miss Queen Bee, who’d made all the girls feel miserable about their looks throughout middle school and high school, losing some of her shine during her pregnancy.
“What?” Rhett demanded, his eyes widening innocently. He laughed at your pointed look, ducking his head to kiss you. “Sorry, baby, but it’s true. Pregnancy looks much better on you.”
Truth be told, pregnancy did suit you. And you assumed it would keep on suiting you until the time came for you to deliver your little bundle of joy.
But then your third trimester hit.
It started out innocuously enough. You tired out more easily and needed to sit down more often. Your back started to ache when you went grocery shopping with Cecilia or your mama. You found yourself getting winded when cooking and setting the table for dinner.
All of it just seemed part and parcel of growing a little human inside you.
“Honeybee, sit down,” Rhett would tell you whenever he caught you rubbing at your lower back, trying to ease the tension that seemed to be lodging itself there with increasing frequency. “I can do the dishes.”
“I can do the laundry.”
“I can run to the store.”
There was nothing your husband wasn’t willing to do for you.
But you turned him down every time.
“I’m fine, baby,” you always told him, even when you had to say it through gritted teeth to mask the discomfort. “I can do it.”
“You need to rest,” he was constantly reminding you, forcing you to take a break whenever he was able to.
“There won’t be any rest once the baby comes along. This is good practice,” you usually responded, grinning as you rested a hand atop your growing bump. At seven and a half months along, it was rather unwieldy at this point.
“You are one stubborn woman, honeybee,” Rhett sighed with a shake of his head, eyeing you carefully as you carried on with your household chores.
You were determined to continue doing just as much around the house and the ranch as you’d done before you’d gotten pregnant. You could do it. You could continue to make Rhett proud, just as you’d done in your first two trimesters.
But it was starting to seem that all your good fortune was drying up and that all the discomfort you’d avoided at the start of your pregnancy was now catching up with you in full force. Maybe Katie Hamilton really had made a voodoo doll of you, like Rhett had joked that day at the diner.
The tiredness was quickly turning to exhaustion, and the slight aches were evolving into an incessant discomfort that bordered on pain. You found yourself catching your breath all the time now, clutching your belly as cramps passed through you on a regular basis.
Every time Rhett asked if you were doing alright, however, you forced yourself to smile and told him, “Just fine, baby.”
It wasn’t that you were trying to lie to him. But you knew that he was always carrying so much. It seemed as if your husband was constantly trying to balance the weight of the world on his shoulders. Since you’d gotten pregnant, your health and the health of the baby had been at the top of his priority list. He worried all the time, even when you assured him he had no reason to. That was just Rhett, and you loved him for it. You loved him so much, in fact, that you didn’t want him worrying himself sick over something that was beyond his control—something that you were assuming was common in this stage of pregnancy, from everything you’d read and heard from others.
Today, however, didn’t feel very common. You’d been experiencing shooting pain down your back all day, to the point that you had to spend most of the afternoon curled up on the couch, whimpering miserably to yourself in an attempt just to get some of the tension out of your body. You also felt a bit nauseous and could sense a headache forming in the back of your skull.
At this point, you knew you were just being the stubborn woman Rhett affectionately accused you of being. You needed to ask for help. You needed to tell your husband how you were feeling.
By the time Rhett arrived home, however, the sun had long set and he was so exhausted that all he wanted to do was take a quick shower and fall into bed.
“Never been so damn tired before,” he mumbled, pecking you softly on the lips before tugging his shirt over his head and trudging towards the bathroom.
You would just talk to him tomorrow, you resolved, chewing on your bottom lip as you changed into a pair of pajamas and turned the covers down. That was probably a better idea anyway. In the light of day, you’d both be more well-rested and you’d be able to get in touch with your doctor.
Yeah. Tomorrow.
Rhett was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, his hair still damp from his shower, and you quickly followed suit, shifting until you managed to find a semi-comfortable position. Closing your eyes, you found yourself drifting off sooner than expected.
When you woke a few hours later, startled out of a dreamless sleep, you could feel the hair standing up on your arms and the back of your neck, a cold, uneasy feeling gnawing at your insides.
Something was wrong.
Sitting up gingerly, you sucked in a sharp breath as a fierce pain tore across your abdomen. You had to close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself, one hand resting on your belly as you attempted to swing your legs over the side of the bed.
“What is it, honeybee?” Rhett croaked from the darkness beside you, sounding only half conscious.
“Nothing,” you lied, biting down on your hand to keep from crying out as you slid off the bed. “Just have to go to the bathroom.”
Your husband simply hummed in response, already back to sleep.
Trying to quell the panic that was quickly rising up inside you, you carefully wobbled towards the bathroom, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth all the while. Maybe this was Braxton Hicks? You’d heard plenty about the “false alarm” contractions that many women faced during their pregnancies. But this didn’t feel like contractions. This felt like something much more serious.
Flicking the lights on in the bathroom, you stumbled to the counter and took in your bleary-eyed, exhausted appearance. Your face looked almost ghostly, matching the ominous shiver that suddenly passed through your body.
You clutched your stomach as another sharp pain knocked the breath out of your lungs, which sent you tottering over to the toilet. Yanking your shorts down, you took a seat and then let out a horrified gasp at the sight you were met with.
Blood.
Your underwear was soaked with bright red blood, the metallic scent of iron assaulting your nose and making you gag.
“Rhett!” you cried out, your voice tearing from your throat so violently that you were almost worried you’d damaged your vocal chords. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the awful reality staring you in the face.
Something about the tone of your voice evidently broke through the exhausted haze in which your husband had been ensnared because seconds later he was barging his way into the bathroom, looking more awake and alert than you’d ever seen him.
“Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” he demanded to know, flying to your side in an instant and crouching down beside you.
“I—I—” You couldn’t even get the words out, couldn’t bear to say them out loud. So instead, you pointed with a trembling finger, squeezing your eyes shut as tears began to roll down your cheeks. You didn’t want to look anymore.
Rhett followed the direction of your finger, gazing downward at the mess of blood coating your underwear and staining your inner thighs. His blue eyes widened and his face paled considerably, but he didn’t freak out. He didn’t jump up or start flailing or demand you tell him what to do. Instead, he reached up and cupped your face between his hands, his touch gentle yet insistent.
“Honeybee,” he said, his calm voice belying the anxiety that was currently making his heart race a million miles an hour. “Baby, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”
You did as he said, slowly opening your watery eyes and meeting his direct gaze. “Rhett, the baby…” you whimpered, a fresh wave of terror crashing over you as you caught sight of the blood once more. You could feel that it was still leaking out of you as you sat there, staining the water in the toilet a dark, violent red.
“Sh, honeybee, sh,” Rhett murmured, his voice as gentle and as soothing as it was when he was talking to a skittish horse. “Talk to me. Keep your eyes on me and talk to me. It’s gonna be alright. What happened?”
You were grateful that he was somehow managing to remain so collected and rational, considering you felt anything but. But that was Rhett. He’d experienced his own fair share of brutal injuries and had seen plenty of blood and gore between the rodeo circuit and his time on the ranch, so these sorts of things didn’t faze him the way they did other people. Your husband was the perfect person to have around in a crisis because he knew how to handle it.
You, on the other hand, did not.
“P-pain,” you sobbed out, able to keep your eyes trained on Rhett only because he was still holding your face in his grasp, his calloused thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “There was this p-pain—in my back a-and my stomach—woke me up—and when I-I got to the b-bathroom—so much b-b-blood,” you wailed, terror gripping you in its iron grasp.
The baby! What was going to happen to the baby?!
“Okay, okay, honeybee. I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here,” Rhett assured you. His voice was still calm, but you noticed a flash of raw fear in his eyes as he looked down once more. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital, alright? It’s gonna be alright.” You weren’t sure at this point if he was trying to reassure you or himself.
“Rhett! I need—I can’t—the blood!” you gasped out, clutching onto his arms.
“I know,” Rhett nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your knee. “I know. I’ll take care of it, baby. Just stay right here.” He carefully pulled your bloodied shorts and underwear down your legs, standing up and throwing them into the sink. “I’ll be right back, honeybee,” he promised, turning and hurrying out of the bathroom.
He was back in a flash, a clean pair of underwear and your favorite pair of sweatpants in hand.
“Alright, baby, where’d you put your pads?” Rhett asked, his eyes quickly scanning every available surface in the bathroom.
It had been so long since you’d needed them.
“In the closet, on the top shelf,” you told him hoarsely, your throat still clogged with tears.
If you weren’t so overwhelmed with fear, you might have been impressed by how quickly Rhett pulled down your pack of pads, tearing a couple of them open and lining your underwear with them before walking back over to you, kneeling down on the cold bathroom floor.
“Okay, baby, we’ll get these on and get you dressed and then we’ll get in the car and get you to the hospital,” Rhett told you, grasping your ankles gently as he slipped them through the openings in the fabric of your underwear.
As tender as your husband was being, you felt like you were going to be sick. “Rhett!” you cried, gripping his bare shoulders roughly. “Rhett, the baby! What if the baby—”
“Sh,” Rhett soothed, brushing your hair back from your face. “We’re not gonna think like that, baby. Let me help you up.”
It all felt like a blur. Like a terrible, horrifying blur. Rhett helped you get dressed before throwing on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans himself. You were vaguely conscious of the fact that he was grabbing towels and a blanket, murmuring softly to you, though you weren’t even registering his words.
Were you going to lose your baby? Were you miscarrying at that very moment, the blood that was seeping out of your body robbing you of the precious baby girl that you and Rhett had been so eagerly anticipating the arrival of? Your daughter? The one you had loved from the moment you knew she existed?
If you lost her, it would be your fault.
Your stubbornness. Your pride. Your refusal to admit when something was wrong.
And now something was really wrong.
If you lost her, it would be all your fault.
“Honeybee, c‘mon, I’ve got you.” Rhett’s voice cut through the misery of your thoughts as he draped a jacket around your shoulders, one hand around your waist as he led you out of the house and towards the truck. It was already running, and you could see as you approached that Rhett had laid down a few towels on the bench. “There you go,” he murmured, helping to lift you up into the bed. Once you were seated, he reached over to settle a blanket over your lap. “There you go, baby.” Closing the door, he raced over to the driver’s side and hopped into the truck, peeling off down the drive almost before he’d even pulled his seatbelt on.
You moaned softly as another wave of pain washed over you, clutching your belly and weeping softly.
“Just rest now, honeybee. Please,” Rhett begged plaintively, reaching over to rest one hand on your stomach.
“It’s my fault,” you told him, nearly incoherent with anxiety and worry. “It’s my fault. If anything happens, it’s—”
“Hey now, no talking like that,” he told you sternly, keeping his eyes fixed ahead on the road despite the fact that he wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you. “Everything’s going to be fine. It will. You and the baby are going to be fine.”
Maybe if he kept saying it enough, one of you would start to believe it.
“I should have told you,” you whimpered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gathered the blanket more tightly around you. “I should have told you.”
Rhett glanced over at you, his brow furrowed in concern. “Lay your head back and rest, honeybee. I’m gonna get you to the hospital real soon.”
The nearest hospital was well over an hour away, but with the way Rhett was driving, he managed to get you there in under forty-five minutes. You were feeling weak and exhausted by the time you arrived, so your husband lifted you into his arms, holding on tightly as he ran you inside.
“Please,” he called out, some of his calm facade cracking as he hurried to the front desk. “Please, my wife. Help my wife. She’s pregnant and she’s bleeding and she—”
Before he could even finish his jumbled explanation, a couple nurses were hurrying forward with a wheelchair, firing out directives and guiding the two of you to a room down a long hallway.
Suddenly there were doctors and nurses surrounding you, stripping you out of your clothes and laying you down in bed and poking and prodding and asking too many questions and telling you to remain calm, but all you really wanted was—
“Rhett!” you sobbed, reaching out and trying to find your husband’s hand. “Rhett!”
“I’m here, baby, I’m here!” Rhett called back. But he sounded so far away. And you couldn’t feel his hand in yours, no matter how hard you reached for him.
“Rhett!” You were hysterical now, you could feel it. Your voice felt harsh and raw as you continued to cry out, the salty tears burning your eyes and cheeks. “The baby! My baby!”
In the back of your mind, you thought you heard one of the doctors say something about sedation, but all you could think about were Rhett and the baby. They were all that mattered. They were the only ones who mattered.
Within seconds, your mind grew hazy and your eyes felt heavy, your aching body sinking into the hospital bed as your consciousness slowly floated away. Before darkness engulfed you completely, you could have sworn you heard Rhett whispering your name.
You couldn’t say with any certainty how long you were out for, but as you slowly started to come to, you could feel the early morning sunlight pressing against your eyelids, so you knew a couple hours at least must have passed. Not quite ready to open your eyes and face whatever news the doctors had to give you, you just lay there quietly, the sound of your own heartbeat rushing in your eyes.
It took a couple moments before you realized that there was a weight pressed against your side, pinning your hand to the bed. Cracking your eyes open just the tiniest fraction, you glanced down and saw that it was Rhett. He had pulled a chair up beside your bed and his head was bowed low, covering your hand and pressing against your thigh. You thought for a second that he might be asleep, but then you saw the slight shudder pass through his shoulders and heard the soft sniffle and you realized the truth.
He was crying.
Your big, strong cowboy of a husband hardly ever cried. Whenever he did, it broke your heart. You wanted nothing more than to reach down and gently stroke his hair, to offer him some comfort, but it was rather difficult to do so with your hand still caught beneath him.
And then he started talking. But you quickly realized he wasn’t talking to you, so you shut your eyes once more to give him some privacy.
“Please, God,” he rasped, lifting his head just enough so that he could take your hand between both of his own. “I know I ain’t never been much of a praying man. Not much a church-going man either. And I guess You’d be right for not listening to me now. But I’m begging You, God. Please. Please protect our baby. Please let her be okay. And please protect my wife. I love her so much, God, and if I ever lost her—my life wouldn’t mean anything if I—oh, please. Please,” he softly prayed, his head falling forward against the bed once again as he quietly sobbed.
You felt your heart splinter into a million tiny pieces as you listened to your husband’s earnest pleas and felt his tears soak into your blanket. He’d been so strong for you this whole time, but the truth was that he was just as terrified. Listening to him now, you felt yourself falling even more in love with him than ever before.
“Sh,” you murmured tenderly, squeezing his hand lightly as you slowly opened your eyes. “I’m right here. It’s okay,” you whispered.
Rhett’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice and he turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes bloodshot and heavy laden with the weight of his sorrow.
“Honeybee,” he breathed out, rising from his chair so that he could lean over you and press a soft kiss to your lips. “Oh, baby, there you are. There you are,” he whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“What happened?” you asked him in a small voice, terrified to actually know the answer.
“They had to sedate you a little bit, baby,” Rhett explained, smoothing your hair back with one hand. “You were getting real upset and they figured it would make it easier to do their exams. They ran a few tests and they’ve been monitoring you this whole time.”
“But the baby,” you said, gazing up at him with worried eyes. “What did they say about the baby?”
Was your baby going to make it?
Rhett’s expression fell slightly, which made your heart jump into your throat. “They haven’t said anything yet, honeybee. I think they’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
You could feel the tears pricking your eyes again. “I’m scared, Rhett,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” Rhett nodded solemnly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So am I.” He ran a hand over your belly, bending his head to kiss it and then rest his cheek atop it. “Mommy and Daddy are right here, baby girl,” he whispered, his voice thick with feeling.
Swallowing the emotion that was threatening to drown you, you reached down and carded your fingers through Rhett’s hair, holding him close to you.
At that moment, the door to your room popped open and a nurse stuck her head inside. “Oh! Mrs. Abbott, you’re awake! I’ll go get the doctor,” she said, scurrying off before you could even open your mouth.
Turning to look at Rhett, you saw the fear that you had been battling all night reflected in his eyes as he lifted your hand and pressed it to his lips. He opened his mouth, as if to reassure you that it was going to be okay, but then he seemed to think better of it.
Was it going to be okay?
You didn’t think minutes had ever ticked by slower. By the time the door finally opened again, an older doctor in a white lab coat stepping into the room, you thought you were going to jump out of your skin. You must have startled slightly because Rhett rested his hand on your arm, stroking it softly in comfort.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott,” the doctor said with a kind smile. He had lines around his eyes that told you he had spent a lot of time laughing and smiling. It was a strange detail to notice at that moment, given the circumstances, but you found it oddly comforting. His smile was focused on you as he pulled up a stool and sat beside your bed, across from Rhett. “My name is Dr. Cunningham. I’m the obstetrician on call, and I’m the one who examined you when you came in.”
“I don’t really remember,” you admitted, a bit embarrassed as you shook your head slowly.
“That’s quite alright. You had quite a shock, and things were a bit hectic when you came in,” Dr. Cunningham replied gently, his voice and demeanor putting you at ease. “We felt it was best to put you under a light sedation so that we could examine you without causing any more distress,” he explained.
You felt Rhett’s fingers wrapping around yours, squeezing gently. Your free hand moved to rest atop your rounded belly, as if trying to shield your child from the doctor’s words.
“Dr. Cunningham, please tell us. Is our baby okay?” you asked, your voice cracking towards the end. Fat, hot tears began to spill forth once more, dribbling down your cheeks and spilling off your chin.
The gray-haired doctor reached out to rest a consoling hand on your arm. “Your baby is just fine. In fact, she’s perfect.”
More precious words had never been spoken. Letting out a loud sob of relief, you turned to look at Rhett, who was already up out of his seat, reaching for you. Burying your face in his neck, you wept for joy, his tears spilling into your hair as he rubbed your back with his large hands.
Dr. Cunningham tactfully sat back and allowed the two of you to take a private moment to rest in the solace of his news.
“She’s okay,” you whispered, your lips ghosting across your husband’s skin. “She’s okay.” You said it over and over again until the words took root under your skin, in your brain, in your heart.
Rhett nodded, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “She’s okay, honeybee,” he murmured in response, reaching down to rest his hand over yours, where it was still clutching your belly.
After a couple more moments, Rhett shifted and sat back in his chair, his fingers still tightly intertwined with yours. “So what happened, Dr. Cunningham? Why was she bleeding?”
Taking on a look of deep professionalism, Dr. Cunningham leaned forward and flipped open your medical chart. “It seems, Mrs. Abbott, that you were experiencing something known as placenta previa. It’s fairly rare, but women have been known to experience it in the third trimester of their pregnancies.” At yours and Rhett’s concerned looks, he hastened to explain. “Basically, the placenta was partially covering the opening in your cervix. That’s what caused the bleeding, and the pain I’m sure you were experiencing.”
“But the baby’s okay?” you questioned, suddenly doubting the validity of that statement. “I mean, there was so much blood and—”
“Your baby is fine, I promise you,” Dr. Cunningham interjected, patting your arm in a fatherly gesture. “I ran the tests myself. Fetal heartbeat is strong and vitals look good—for both of you. I know this must have been traumatic, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. That’s what’s most important. And thankfully, your case was fairly mild as far as placenta previa goes.”
“Is it life threatening?” you asked, sensing without having to look at him the way Rhett tensed up beside you.
Dr. Cunningham hesitated a moment before answering truthfully. “It can be. But like I said, your case was thankfully on the milder side. And it’s good your husband got you here as fast as he did.”
Gazing at Rhett, you reached out to cup his cheek, caressing his skin lightly with your thumb. His blue eyes were focused on you as he turned his head to brush a kiss against the palm of your hand.
“What do we need to do?” he asked, tearing his gaze away from your face to look at the doctor. “Whatever she needs. I want to make sure that the both of them stay safe,” he said, his eyes flicking down to your stomach.
“Bed rest is key,” Dr. Cunningham emphasized firmly. “I suspect pushing your body a bit too hard may have had something to do with this. So limiting all physical activity is crucial.”
“Done,” Rhett nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “She’s not gonna lift a finger, I promise.”
“That also means no sex,” Dr. Cunningham said bluntly, looking between the two of you. “From here on out, you’re going to have to refrain from any sexual activity. We don’t want to risk a placental abruption.”
Rhett nodded again, despite that bit of news being less than enthusing. “Understood,” he said firmly. “Anything to keep the baby safe.”
“I’m also going to write you a prescription for a medication to prevent early labor,” the doctor said, looking at you. At your alarmed expression, he held up his hands. “A precautionary measure, that’s all. Everything is going to be fine. So long as you take your bed rest seriously, you should be able to have a very healthy labor and delivery—at the appropriate time.”
“Thank you, Dr. Cunningham,” you murmured, your head swimming as you tried to take in all this information.
As if reading your mind, Dr. Cunningham smiled and rose from his stool. “I know that was a lot that I threw at you. I’ll give the two of you some time to talk and decompress. We’d like to keep you overnight, Mrs. Abbott, just to monitor things, but you should be good to go tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you,” Rhett said, rising as well and holding out his hand for a sturdy handshake.
“Of course,” Dr. Cunningham nodded, smiling as he stepped towards the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to call.”
As soon as he was gone, Rhett collapsed back into his chair, running his hands down his face and letting out a deep sigh. “Thank God,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Thank You, God.”
Running your hands over your belly, you were startled when you suddenly felt a swift kick to your lower abdomen.
There she was. There was your baby girl.
Lowering your head, you began to sob all over again, relief coursing through your veins.
“Aw, hey, baby,” Rhett murmured, standing up and leaning over you, brushing your tears away with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t cry. It’s all going to be okay. You heard the doctor. You and baby girl are going to be okay.”
“I know,” you nodded, sniffling. “I can feel her,” you explained, grabbing his hand and pressing it tightly across your stomach.
It took a minute, but you knew Rhett had felt her moving the second his eyes lit up and his face split into the hugest grin you’d ever seen.
“There she is,” he mumbled in awe, crouching down to kiss the spot where he’d felt her kick. “There you are, baby girl,” he said, speaking directly to her. “You gave us a quite a scare. But you’re alright. You and your mama are both alright. I love you both so much, you know that? You’re my whole world,” he told her, massaging your belly with shockingly gentle fingers.
“And you’re ours,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair.
Rhett lifted his eyes and captured your hand between both of his, peppering it with soft kisses.
“God, you had me so scared, honeybee,” he admitted, stroking your wrist with his calloused fingers.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my whole life,” you confessed in return, biting down roughly on your lower lip to keep from crying again.
Rhett was quiet for a moment, just gazing at you. “Baby?” he prompted, pulling his chair closer to the head of the bed and sitting back down. “Can I ask you something?”
You nodded, resting your head back against your pillows.
“On the drive here—well, I know you were upset and barely thinking straight. But you kept saying you should have told me something,” Rhett explained slowly, looking into your eyes. “What was it, honeybee? What should you have told me?”
You lowered your head at his words, shame blazing through you. Dr. Cunningham had said you’d been pushing yourself too hard, which had probably contributed to this condition. Why hadn’t you just been honest with your husband? Why had you tried to keep your troubles from him?
“Baby, please. Talk to me,” Rhett begged, stroking your hand gently.
“I—I should have told you that—that I’ve been struggling these past few weeks,” you confessed, your voice tinged with guilt and regret. “I felt like everything was going so smoothly, and then as soon as my third trimester hit, everything caught up to me all at once. I was tired all the time, and sometimes I would get this terrible pain in my back. And it was hard to do all the things I normally do around the house.”
“Honeybee, why didn’t you tell me?” Rhett demanded, looking hurt that you’d kept this from him.
“I—I’m sorry that I didn’t,” you apologized in a small voice, chin trembling. “You asked so many times if I was okay and I should have just been honest with you. But…I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to know.”
“Why?” Rhett pressed, lifting your hand to his cheek. “Don’t you know you can tell me anything?”
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you nodded, a few salty tears streaming out of your closed lids. “I know. I do know that. But I didn’t want to worry you. And you just—you seemed so happy, you know? So proud of the fact that everything was going so smoothly with my pregnancy. That it was so easy.” You shrugged your shoulders sadly, voicing out loud the truth that you hadn’t wanted to admit. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
Rhett sucked in a breath, his eyes widening as he looked up at you. “Oh, baby,” he breathed out, practically knocking his chair backward in his haste to stand up and take your face in his hands. “Baby,” he said again, kissing you softly. “You could never disappoint me. Never. I’m so proud of you always. Did you really think I would be disappointed that you were having a hard time?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “I just—I wanted you to be happy.”
“Honeybee,” he said gently, stroking your cheek. “I’m happy when you’re happy. The only reason I was so happy that your pregnancy was so easy is because I hate watching you suffer. It had nothing to do with me being proud of you or not,” he said firmly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I’m so proud of you. So, so proud. Especially after all this.”
You started crying in earnest at his words, the floodgates of your heart opening as you let loose all the worry and anxiety and stress you’d been feeling lately. Rhett just held you and let you cry, rubbing small, soothing circles on your back.
“I love you so much, honeybee,” he whispered, resting his cheek atop your head.
“I love you, too,” you told him, burying your face in his chest.
The two of you sat together in peaceful silence for a while, the soft hum and beeps of monitors the only sounds in the room.
“I’m sorry, Rhett,” you finally said, your voice a little hoarse from all your tears. “I should have been honest with you. I put our daughter’s life at risk because of it.”
“Hey,” he murmured, shaking his head as he cupped your face in his hands. “No blaming yourself. She’s okay, and you’re okay, and that’s all that matters,” he insisted, kissing your forehead.
“I promise I won’t keep anything from you again,” you vowed, resting a hand over one of his and stroking the back of it with your thumb.
“You can always tell me everything, honeybee. Always,” Rhett promised you, lowering his forehead until it was pressed against yours.
“Everything?” you asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Everything,” he nodded.
“Okay, well in that case—I’m a little bummed that we can’t have anymore sex until after the baby comes,” you said, your eyes twinkling as your mouth curved up in amusement.
Rhett blinked a couple times in surprise, then threw his head back laughing. “There’s my honeybee,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “Truth be told, I’m a little bummed, too,” he grinned.
“You really going to hold me to that bed rest rule like you told Dr. Cunningham?” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“You bet your ass I am, you stubborn woman,” Rhett shot back, arching his eyebrows pointedly.
You laughed aloud at that, poking him affectionately. “But I’m your stubborn woman.”
“That you are, honeybee,” Rhett smiled, running a finger along your wedding band as he took his seat beside you once more. “That you are.”
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ultra-raging-ghost · 5 months
Text
I reached post limit so im gonna write this and save it for midnight to post later 🥰
-10:30 EST
Richas made a reference/mentioned outliving forever and bad started screaming and sobbing for a solid 2 minutes and then started talking about how no no forevers probably fine cucuruchos probably taking care of him, richas asked if thats what bad tells himself to sleep at night, if he just lies to himself and bad said yes! if all else fails, simply lie to yourself and push your true feelings down to make it through this meaningless existence :D and richas said "so if we said the sky is pink at all times a day and just lie to ourselves its ok?" and bad said yes, we already lie to ourselves all the time we just need to think about how much lying we accept :3
richas thinks dappers colorblind
bad said his chats british 😭
time to read books!
-10:40 EST
bad is making fun of us for being sad because of angst(/lh/j) and sang a brief song about us being sad and mentioned "the sun is gone" just to torment us over forever being gone. He also went f5 said something like “if you think it’s sad now… anyway..... spoilers!!" implying it will get even sadder!! (terrified)
oh theres a letter for bbh and forever :((( this might be sad now that forevers. in his place. chats crying
-10:50 EST
Bad is screaming and crying because forever will never be able to read his letter, hes literally head in hands screaming and crying and hes letting the TTS read it out
one of the qsmp purgatory programmers wrote bad a letter saying he was supposed to die more and bad said hes a bug tester at heart and richas is bullying bad because of how many bugs he found and exploited LMAO bad said he'll fudging do it again
-11:00 EST
bad found ANOTHER wall bug to glitch thru, hes insane
-11:10 EST
someone said the word forever and bad is reduced to shambles on the floor, hes crying and whining forevers name in tears and agony and he made the dying "bleh" sound like 4 times
also bad mentioned that as soon as its confirmed to the characters like in-character that max is dead theyre having a funeral for him, like bad as the grim reaper knows but he hasnt told anyone, nobodys aware of him being gone, >>>>also he was ominous and said he needed to shoot max a message oorp and refused to elaborate. what the fuck was that about badboyhalo? <<<<<
-11:30 EST
Bad and richas and pomme wanna make an elevator death trap and then call foolish over to trap/murder him <3 chat is advocating for this idea. chat also wants to see the museum, bad said yes!!! Museum time!
before that, bad is being ominously silent again and is texting off screen. that max comment earlier + this makes me worried. MOVING ON THO BC HES SINGING HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO RICHAS AND POMME GOT HIM A PRESENT FOR HIS BDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHAS!!!!! (in brazil time) The present is Honey cookies! because richas got covered in honey and used as bait while they were away LMAO
Bad was talking about the 1k snow golems prank and was wondering if the cleanup team would be upset or love that, and richas said "lets say im part of that tio" and bad is now saying richas will take 100% accountability for that and will clean all of it up by himself LMAOOOO richas placed down signs saying "NO TIO I NEVER SAID THAT!! I DIDNT" and bad read them out loud as "Yes tio i agree i did say that ill do it!"
oh god bads spamming richas signs everywhere this is gonna fucking lag everything LMAOOOO richas crashed and bad kept placing until he got bored and said "yessssss richas will get in so much trouble hahaha! messing with the server!!!! bad then said "Richas always comes back" in the FNAF voice, didnt need to know you were an even bigger nerd BBH but okay /aff
-11:40 EST
Pomme is dragging bbh around on a lasso and is trapping him somewhere <3333 theyre climbing up the big ben and bad is taking SO MUCH DAMAGE he has his auto eat on
he accidentally said the word "forever" again and started crying again, his chat is in shambles.
MUSEUM TIME!!!!!!
HELP THE FUCKING ADMINS INCLUDED A DRAWING OF BAD LITERALLY STUCK IN A PADDED ROOM BASED ON HIS TIME IN JAIL, RICHAS SAID "natural habitat"
>>>>>>bad's crying again, and being horny because of how "cute" forever looks in the fanart, but mostly crying<<<<<
pomme started bullying bad because he called forever cute LMAO
tinas on!!!!!
-11:50 EST
Bad's crying again over art of him and forever in the pool he made in forevers base, the admins want to hurt him specifically/j
"treasure the wholesome moments chat, for they are just dust in the wind" -BBH 2023
bad took his totems out of his offhand again :)
Bad's crying again over another image of him and forever!!
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