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frannyzooey · 6 months

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Short Days, Long Nights: 15

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, teeny tiny lactation kink, Joel being real cute with a baby is it's own warning

A/N: ❤ thank you one million times over to @the-scandalorian who always give the best feedback and advice, to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who is always the most supportive and a special shout out to @mrsquill whose advice and perspective was much needed, being the big beautiful brain she is.

Joel picks his way through the woods, brushing aside the sprawling branches that reach out to catch his shirt. A small bundle tucked against his chest in a makeshift carrier, he’s got one hand splayed across it, protectively shielding it. His boots crunch over fallen twigs, and from within the folds of fabric, June’s dark eyes look up.

Flitting between staring at him and the contrast of the treetops as she takes in the surroundings, dapples of sunlight shift and play across her small face, light catching the swirls of her dark brown curls. When she starts squirming, Joel looks down and smiles at her.

“You ready to get up, baby girl?”

Shifting her in the wrapped sling to face his chest instead of lying down, he makes sure she’s secure before he continues, giving her his thumb to hold onto. Her tiny, chubby hand wraps halfway around it and letting her squeeze it, he strokes the soft skin on the back of her hand.

Carefully placed steps to avoid tripping on anything, his boots follow his normal hunting path, only this time he’s not hunting: he’s taking her for their daily walk.

Starting as something he’d hoped would calm her down during her early days, he’s taken to walking all over the place with her while you nap in the afternoons. Never far enough that he couldn’t get back quickly if he needed to, they’ve explored every inch of the woods surrounding the cabin. Sometimes she’s fussy, sometimes she’s still, and sometimes - like today - she’s alert and awake, lifting her head off his chest to peek at the world around her.

“You hear that, baby girl? You hear that bird singin’ to you?”

He talks to her without even realizing it, a constant, soothing murmur.

His lips brush the downy crown of her hair, dragging back and forth just to feel the tickle of softness and he presses a kiss there, turning back towards home.

Home.

He’d begun calling it that while talking out loud to her and then kept saying it, because it was true. This was his home, and hers, and yours. One that, even though summer had begun and she was now here, had become impossible to leave.

He had agreed to stay until she was born, but with every day that passed, he couldn’t bring himself to move forward with the plan. Days had slid together, weeks blurring as he helped care for her while you healed and he knew you wouldn’t be able to make the trek then, so he said nothing. Another month passed after that, and he thought about it - he really did - but couldn’t quite reconcile the concept of a potential threat with the present sense of safety. The danger that had seemed so immediate and imminent and threatening had faded into the background, giving way to the quiet routine of life, and the three of you continued on.

The map was still in the cabin, as a reminder of what was waiting out there, but so were other things:

Her, in her cradle in the corner of the room along with the pillowcase that she’s taken to sleeping with, in lieu of a baby blanket.

You, on the living room floor, your smile blinding as you stretched out next to her wriggling body in the afternoons.

Her basket on the edge of your garden: you working, her small fists stretching and flexing towards the sky, visible just over the wicker rim.

For someone who had little to no experience with it, you’d taken to motherhood like you’d done it all before. The birth, nursing, adjusting to a new sleep schedule, learning what every one of her cries meant and just how to soothe it. A seemingly deep reserve of patience held within you, your constant resourcefulness when it came to everything you had both on hand and inside yourself, he finds he loves you even more than he did before.

Constantly impressed and humbled by this new version of you emerging right in front of him, he tries to let you both know how he feels in his own, wordless ways: referring to and respecting your knowledge and guidance when it comes to planting, delicate brushes of his hand on the small of your back while you talk with him in the kitchen, stopping you while you do chores to guide your mouth to his in a kiss of appreciation. Rocking June to sleep when she wakes, washing her clothes in the river, taking her for walks.

So accustomed to thinking of his own body as a weapon, spending years using it as a means of protecting those he loves, he’s found an entirely new use for it right alongside yours: familiar, tender motions he thought were lost coming to the surface.

Emerging from the woods, the familiar slope of your land comes into view and he makes his way down to the edge of the water. His boots sink into the soft give of the sand, a trail of impressions left behind him, and he drops down to a crouch before fully sitting down. Unwinding the fabric tied around his shoulder, he gently eases June out of the carrier.

Delicate yet steady in his hold on her, he props his forearms on his knees and lifts her so they are face to face.

“How much did you sleep last night?” he asks, a deep frown settling between his brows. Dark bags show under his eyes, and she wriggles in his grip, her legs kicking.

“Felt like you didn’t sleep at all. Keepin’ us up all night with your fussin’.”

She pays no mind to the stern look on his face, the gentle tone of his words in contrast with their scolding, and his lips brush against her cheek, her mouth opening to chase his with a babbling, wet sound.

“You’re cute, baby girl, but you ain’t that cute. You gotta let us sleep.”

She lets out a soft cry, and he chuckles.

“Okay, I take it back. You are that cute.”

They look at each other for a moment, her small, dark eyes studying his larger ones and a familiar glint of hazel captures his breath for a moment, his heart seizing.

Identical to Sarah’s color, the likeness flits through them almost faster than he can catch it, though it doesn’t stop him from staring intently at June in hopes of it coming back. She blinks and looks away, her body flexing in a stretch.

“I saw you,” he says quietly, to himself.

June’s eyes come back to him at the sound of his voice, and the corner of his mouth lifts.

“I think your big sister was just sayin’ hi, pretty girl.”

Impossible to ignore since the moment she came into the world and he caught her in his hands, he saw Sarah in June all the time. Every day: sometimes in her eyes, in her expressions, in her movements. He knew June was her own being, a mixture of himself and you that he loved. His eyes, the shape of your face. His dark hair, your smile. But when he caught glimpses of Sarah in her, he immediately chased the fleeting image before he could think about how much it would hurt to see it. Another chance to see her again, at any cost.

Introducing the memory of Sarah to June as her “big sister,” a burden was lifted from his chest the day he started speaking about her. With nothing but the solitude of the woods around them and her tiny ears to hear his words, once he started, he couldn’t stop.

Years of buried memories, of guilt, of confessions and apologies as his heart ached recounting the things he’d done. All of them laid bare to June, who absorbed them with quiet fascination at the low, rumbling voice of her father. The words meaningless to her and received without the judgment of someone who would actually understand what he was saying, everything came pouring out.

Everything he’d done, everything he regretted, everything he missed.

Once those were let out into the world, he focused on the good: Sarah’s love for soccer, for animals, her stubborn streak that matched his own. Her sense of humor, her girliness, vacations they took and their time spent together.

Emerging from the depths he’d buried it under long ago, Sarah’s memory grew stronger every day and he was surprised to find that it hurt… less than it used to. Something he used to avoid due to the sheer pain that would come alongside the memories, he now seeks them out, to relive them in a new light. Basking in this second chance with her, he looks forward to seeing her in any way she appears in this life.

“You think your momma’s up yet?” he asks. “Or should we give her a little bit more time?”

He waits for an answer he knows isn’t coming, but he studies June’s face like it is, eventually answering himself with a nod.

“More time, I think. You’re right.”

Turning her to face the water, he places her in his lap and with sunlight flooding the bank, they sit and look at the water together.

–

You feel as though you could sleep forever.

Your heavy eyes blinking open, you stay in place and listen. Silence, which means they must still be out and rolling onto your side, you sink deeper under the thin quilt. Exhaustion blankets you, pulling your eyes shut.

Tired. So tired, more tired than you’ve ever been in your life. He catches naps whenever he can, seemingly able to fall asleep for a moment whenever and wherever in the way older men do, but not you. Your mind is a constant whirring machine of what needs to be done next and it takes forever to turn off, but last night she was up for ages, and so when he told you to take a nap, you crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Your face brushing the cool cotton of his pillowcase, you bury your nose into it, inhaling. A need flickers to life inside you, slowly unfurling under the heaviness of your limbs and you wish he was lying in bed with you right now.

In the morning sometimes when she’s in her cradle, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply, letting your lips catch the edge of his whiskers. When you seek out his skin, he rolls to face you with still closed eyes but finds you just the same.

Still, they are kisses that only awaken, never slake. Early morning sleep soft kisses. Warm skin under wandering hands, until she cries. Never any time to linger in the morning, you can still taste the firm press of his mouth against yours if you try hard enough and the memory of yesterday slips into your sleep-hazed mind, the edges fuzzy and soft.

“What’s this for?”, you hummed, leaning back into him.

His mouth rested on your neck, his lips molding to the slope of it. One kiss, another and his tongue slipped out, tasting your skin.

“Jus’ missed you. Thinkin’ about you.”

“Oh yea? What were you thinking about?”

He kissed your neck again, letting his mouth rest just under your ear. “ ‘Bout the other night.”

The other night: when he held his hand over your mouth and worked you with his fingers over your soaked panties until you came with a broken cry, right before kneeling next to you on the bed to watch you jerk him to completion onto your stomach. Afterwards, he smeared it around and you licked the spend from his fingers.

“That was nice,” you smiled, turning to face him. Threading your fingers through his curls, you offered your mouth to him and he took it, his own need apparent in the way it moved against yours—telling and deep.

Just the two of you for so long before June came along, it felt good to be reminded that he still wanted you like that: as a woman, instead of just a mother. The new role unfamiliar and flooded with a constant rollercoaster of shifting emotions, it was hard to navigate this version of yourself, and even harder to articulate those emotions into words. Joy like you’ve never known blended with bone weary exhaustion and pain. A fierce need to prove to yourself that you could do this, while still wanting him to take the lead. A new found self-pride laced with frustration and sadness and an ache for the way your relationship used to be.

All of these emotions, fading away to be replaced by a happiness you never thought possible whenever you looked at June.

He’s helped you navigate it all, just like he’s always helped you navigate: the group when you had one, dangerous routes when you used to take them, this new life when you made the suggestion. Jackson, should he ever bring it up again. The possibility of leaving was something you hoped every day that he’d forgotten about, but you didn’t dare bring up the subject in case he hadn’t. You weren’t ready. Not yet.

With the idea of sleeping on the hard ground making the comforting cloud of your bed hard to leave, you eventually rise and peek out the window in search of them. The broad expanse of his back sits down by the water, and you see him lift her to face him, murmuring words you can’t hear.

A delicacy to his touch and another side to his competence that you’d never have seen without her, Joel Miller the dad was someone you felt lucky to witness, but the thought of Joel Miller the man was the one that had your eyes lingering on his shoulders and the flex of his biceps under the material of his shirt.

Recalling his kiss from earlier that morning, you walk out of the room to go greet them.

–

“How old are you going to be when she’s ten?”

He groans, closing his eyes. “Christ, don’ ask me that.”

You giggle, and he peeks an eye open at you.

“Your daddy is gonna be wearin’ diapers soon,” you coo down at June, and he’s quick with his reply.

“Who says I don’t already?”

Your playful giggle turns into a full laugh.

“Smart-ass,” he grumbles, a good natured grin at the edge of his lips.

He leans back into the worn couch, letting his head tilt to the side as he watches the two of you on the floor in front of him. The days getting longer with the time of year, evening sunlight streams in through the windows you washed earlier that day and its rays fill the room with enough light to see. The windows open, a breeze flows through.

Rolling from your side onto your stomach, his gaze drifts from the curve of your cheek to the small round of your shoulder, to the wide open expression of pure contentment and love on your face as you coo a soothing murmur of nonsense down at June. She eats it up, her limbs kicking in jerky, excited movements in her splay on her back and she is transfixed by your face, alert and focused.

Filled with gratitude, he’s silent for a moment as he just…watches.

Your finger dangles over June’s grasping hand until she takes it and wiggling it with a smile and a tease, you take it from her and dance your fingers down her belly, tickling. Her tiny body kicks in response, never ceasing in its movement.

An overlay of his shitty QZ apartment blankets the room, and he immediately rejects the image, knowing you don’t belong there. The concrete he's slept on and the endless things he’s done to survive flood his mind and a simultaneous reaction wars within him: guilt, at the idea he doesn’t deserve this life after everything he’s done, and the answering fierce urge to defend it, making sure no one ever takes it away from him.

“You thinking about it?”

Your question drags him to the present, and he frowns.

“Leaving,” you clarify. You look down, your expression turning solemn. “You were quiet for a while,” you say quietly. “I thought maybe you finally remembered.”

Reading the tone in which you deliver your hesitant statement as dreading something inevitable, he’s honest in his reply in hopes to soothe you.

“No,” he says. “I actually haven’t thought about it in awhile. Not seriously, anyway.”

Your eyes lift to meet his and the hope you’re trying to conceal in your expression almost breaks him.

“You were right,” he continues. “We got the garden up and runnin’, got everything all setup like we like. Got a safe place for her.” His chin tilts towards June, her fists flailing in exploration until you catch one in your hold.

“And if someone comes?” you broach hesitantly.

His jaw shifts, his eyes drifting down to June. “If someone comes, I’ll deal with ‘em.”

He will.

There is a finality in his tone, even if he isn’t sure it’s a promise he can make, but it feels right saying out loud. You belong here, she belongs here and he can’t let anyone take that away, not even himself.

You say nothing, searching for the truth on his face and when you find it, the edge of your mouth lifts in disbelief.

“Joel Miller, the optimist,” you tease.

Because of you, he immediately thinks. Instead, he teases right back.

“What, you think I can’t?”

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. Your playful expression faltering after a moment, your attention shifts to June and a telltale trembling of your lip catches his eye as you avoid his gaze. Knowing you’re purposefully not looking at him because you’re self conscious about how easy it is to make you cry after June’s birth, he leans forward and drops down to join you on the floor.

“Hey,” he says softly, crawling over and reaching out over her body to grasp your chin. “Hey now.”

You let him guide your face to his, and he sees he's right. A tear rolls smoothly down your cheek and his frown softens with his voice.

“I would never let anything happen to you, honey. Either of you.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you start, your breath shuddering. You swallow and then surprise him with a watery laugh. “I’m not – I’m not scared of that. I’m just –” you sniffle again, blinking free another tear. “I’m just so happy.”

A sob breaks free on the last word and the contrast of your statement with your reaction makes him laugh, which in turn makes you laugh through another sob. Then, a new sound blends into it from beneath the two of you, one that makes you both stop.

“Did she just –” your breathing hitches, and you look from her to him. “Did she just laugh?”

The first time it’s ever happened, she does it again when you laugh in astonished, watery joy and it only makes you sob harder, tucking your face into the crook of your elbow.

“She’s laughin’ at you,” he chuckles, splaying his hand wide over her belly, grinning down at her with deep dimples.

Taking a deep breath and wiping your eyes on your sleeve, you smile down at June.

“Your daddy is gonna let us stay,” you say to her, your voice thick with tears and joy as you sniff again.

“Only ‘cause your momma has made us such a good home.”

Teasing words covering true, deep emotions, he looks at you and with tears still clinging to your wet lashes, he thinks you might be one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. So much love shines through your gaze that the intensity of it is almost overwhelming, but he doesn’t look away. He meets it, unwavering.

“Joel,” you start, slipping your hand over his where it still rests on her belly, covering it with a squeeze. “If you ever want to go, I’ll go. I’d follow you wherever. Here, Jackson, somewhere else. Anywhere else. I trust you.”

Not trusting himself to speak without his voice breaking, he just lifts the corner of his mouth and nods before bending his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

A silent devotional action, to the one who has given him everything.

Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you go back to trying to make June laugh and he watches the two of you from his place on the floor, stretched out alongside you.

How could he leave?

—

Attempting to summon the courage while tugging at the silken fabric to make sure it covers all the parts of yourself that you are unsure of, you stare at your reflection in the mirror; his low singing voice coming from June’s room.

All day, you’ve secretly ached for him.

A fire ignited every time you saw him with her: holding her, cradling her, one hand across her chest as she slept next to him on the couch while he read. And without: the short, dark strands of hair at the nape of his tanned neck, the little slice of skin above the waistband of his jeans that peeked out when he crouched. His thick forearms, his firm thighs.

An ache that had been present since you woke up this morning, you’ve missed the man he is: his body, his skillful touch, his masculine, solid form moving against yours. A while since she’s gone down this early, you want to take advantage of the gift of time and show him how much you’ve missed him…but there is still a slight insecurity about this changed body of yours.

Smoothing your hands over the lace that rests over your cleavage as you look some more, the soft scuff of his boots across the floor as he enters the bedroom has you immediately second guessing, quickly turning for your robe.

“She went down okay,“ he says tiredly, scrubbing his hand down his face. He tugs his shirt off with a one handed hold behind his back, kicking off his boots while unbuckling his jeans. Shucking them off to drape them over the chair in the corner, he looks up at your silence.

Frozen in front of him, your hands clutch the robe together.

“You okay?” he asks, his tired expression knit with concern.

“That was quicker than I thought.”

He huffs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not complain’.”

“Neither am I, I just –” your hands fiddle with the thick material, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip. “I just wasn’t ready for you.”

Studying your face, he tilts his head up, lifting an eyebrow. “Ready for me?” His eyes drop down your body, his posture straightening with interest. “You got somethin’ under there?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Turn out the light first?”

His eyes darken at your answer and he slowly leans to the side, reaching to turn the lantern down. The room descends into a shadowed version of itself, everything bathed in dim warmth and he settles back into position, waiting.

Taking a deep breath and feeling braver in the darkness of the room, you open the robe and let it fall to the floor.

“What’s all this?” he asks, his husky drawl low and slow.

Stepping between his thighs, you take his larger hand in your smaller one and place it over your side, encouraging him to touch. He splays his fingers, searching for the heat of your skin through the thin material and gliding his hold up until his thumb drags lightly across your nipple, his eyes watch as it pebbles under the silk. Arching slightly into his touch, he takes your lead and tenderly palms the weight of your breast.

Hooded, his eyes stay fixed on his hand. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it months ago,” you reply, your tone breathy and warm from the delicate brush of his fingertips over the fabric.

He hums, letting his hand drag down your sternum with weighted exploration, curling firmly around your hip to pull you closer.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” he asks in disbelief, immediately looking up at you. He bunches the silk in his fists, pulling it tight against your body. His throat bobs, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip as his eyes make a circuit down the length of you and back up.

“My pretty girl, all dressed up for me. How could I not?”

Bending down for a kiss, you place your hands on his shoulders and the hunger in the way he presses his mouth against yours betrays every thought running through his mind. Suddenly more awake than he seemed, he can’t stop shifting his hold on you: his mouth taking and taking, while his hands touch everything he can reach.

When they get to the hem of the nighty and pull it up over your ass, he groans into your mouth when he finds nothing but bare skin underneath.

“Nothin’ underneath? You’re such a good fuckin’ girl,” he breathes against your mouth, right before capturing it again in a devouring kiss. Leaving you breathless, he follows the column of your throat with a whiskery scrape of his beard against your skin, and works his way down, his humid breath ghosting over the tops of your breasts as he gives every inch of skin he finds an open mouthed kiss.

Slipping the shoulder strap down, the fabric falls away and he takes your nipple into his mouth immediately. Letting out a low moan with a pinched frown of pleasure, his eyes close and he draws from you: his hand coming up to cradle the underside of your breast, pushing more into his mouth as he swirls his tongue over the sensitive peak. His other hand digs into the curve of your hip, keeping you in place. Holding on, like you’re the anchor.

Your fingers bury themselves in his soft curls, and he groans. Pulling back, a glimmer of something white is smeared on his lower lip, and his tongue darts out to taste the drop of liquid.

“Takin’ care of my baby, with this perfect fuckin’ body.”

Soaked in worship, his words have you climbing onto his lap as he guides you in place and gathering you into his arms, he tugs your knee up to force you into a straddle over his thighs. Deepening his kiss with an inviting, slick slide of his tongue against yours, a low hum pours out of your throat and you grind against him, seeking the warm heft between his thighs until he shifts and rolls you onto your back, laying you out underneath him.

His humid breath consumes you, the scent of his skin filling your senses. The firm rounds of his shoulders bunch under your touch, his biceps flexing in their strain as he moves above you and his solid torso presses against yours, forcing you into the mattress. His mouth never ceases and neither does yours, every part of your bodies seeking the other out to move in a mimic of the act itself and winding your legs around his waist, he grinds himself against you until you’re whiny and restless underneath him, your cunt slick and soaked against his cotton briefs. When you start to shove them down his hips, he helps.

Tugging them down and kicking them off, his cock drags along the inside of your thigh when he lowers himself back over you.

“I need you inside me,” you moan, reaching for him. “I want it.”

“Yea? You want my cock?”

“I’ve wanted it all day. All day while I’ve watched you.”

His hand joins yours to guide him to your aching entrance, and when the thick, rounded tip of his cock starts to make room for itself, you let out simultaneous groans of relief when he slides in. A singular smooth, filling and fluid stroke, all the way to the base.

“God yes, just like that,’ you plead, and he’s quick to soothe.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, my girl. I got you. I got you.”

Your mind already lost in a haze of need, the whole-body relief you feel is intoxicating, and yet his fullness inside you is only half of what you want. You want to feel desired, like he wants you just as bad as you’ve wanted him and to feel it, you know you need his roughness. The harder edges of his lust, the ones he’s been holding back from you since you gave birth.

You want to taste desperation in his kisses, to feel it in his hold, to have him force it into the slick fist of your cunt because he just can’t help it - and you get what you want the second he starts moving.

“I can’t believe you wore this for me,” he breathes above you, his hand catching the edge of the silk to pull it down and expose both your breasts. He watches them bounce for a moment, moving with every thrust of his hips and then he bends to latch his mouth onto one, the hard suction of it making you moan. Cradling the back of his head, you push yourself into the sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, and all mine. All for me. Ain’t that right?”

His hips rock against yours, the tip of his cock sliding against that deep spot that’s been aching for him all day and you push your head back into the pillow, forcing your hips up to meet every one of his downward strokes.

“God yes,” you pant. “All yours. Only yours.”

“S’fuckin right. My girl. Lookin’ this pretty just for me.”

He brings his mouth down next to your ear as his hips keep moving. “Pussy this wet, just for me.”

You nod, and fitting his face into your neck, he rewards you an open mouthed kiss laced with a groan. He sucks at your skin, his teeth dragging over your pulse and then his mouth finds yours, forcing it open just like he’s forcing you open to take everything he’s giving. Every weighted stroke, every full push inside.

You like his words, but you like this just as much: when he’s so focused on how you feel around him and underneath him that he can’t speak, and you get to swallow his harsh pants and low grunts instead.

Your thighs hitch higher around his torso, your ankles resting on his back and you can feel his muscles shift and flex under your heels, working, working, working. The intensity of your release builds, a fire that’s been banked all day finally being stoked brighter and hotter and he picks up his pace, his arm pushing underneath your back to hook his hand around your shoulder, keeping you in place beneath him. Buried under the weight of his body, you relish being used.

Still just as sensitive as when you were pregnant, fast - so fast - you feel the first ripple of your oncoming release wash over your skin.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you plead, trying to keep quiet.

“Come on, honey,” he encourages it, pressing a thick kiss just under your ear. “Lemme feel it.”

Everything tightening between your hips, a syrupy warmth fills the bowl of your pelvis until it’s too intense and overwhelming and filling — and then it bursts bright and wet, your thighs squeezing his torso as he grunts through every rough stroke that sees you through it.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he groans before kissing you. He pushes in harder, faster, pounding into the slick fist of your sated cunt.

“You want another one?” he asks, breathless and panting, the curl of a smug smile at the edge of his mouth. “Think you can do it again?”

You can’t speak, your mouth parted in a fixed shape as you focus on how he feels inside you right now and when he slips a hand underneath your tailbone to angle you just right, he focuses his strokes downward, causing you to cry out.

“Shhhh, honey. S’okay. You can take it. Gimme another one.”

His voice is lost in the fuzzy edges of your mind, the only thing coming through the soothing tone as he makes you take what he’s giving and when you start to lock up underneath him again, the smile on his face this time is more apparent than the first one. When you start to come, he looks almost proud.

Your nails dig into the meat of his ass, forcing him deeper and he bends and bites the underside of your breast as he picks up his pace. His hands bunching in the sheets, he fucks you harder, faster, and when his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm, you know he’s close.

“Goddamnit,” he groans when you come around him, never stilling in his movement above you.

Frantically needing him to feel as good as he just made you feel, you dig your hold into the meat along his ribs and hold him in place above you, your hips pushing up to work against his. Matching his every stroke down with your own, his eyes shut tight against the sensation he tries not to give into.

“I’m gonna come inside you if you don’t stop,” he warns, the words a tortured groan.

Knowing you can’t do that, you move quickly underneath him, pushing your hands against his chest until he lifts just enough for you to frantically slide down the bed. His slick, stiff cock drags up your belly and along the plane of your chest, brushing against your chin right before you take it into your mouth and when you wrap your lips around it with a firm suck, the groan he lets out is loud and involuntary, his hips bucking forward.

His hand buries itself into your hair, his fist pulling painfully at the roots when he pushes himself in down to the base and you feel his belly jerk with a tremble right before he pours hot and sticky along the back of your tongue. His release is endless, filling your mouth as he stretches out rigid next to you and you swallow every single drop, your throat working as you hold him close.

Working the dregs of it out with a slow roll of his hips into your face, you finally pull off when he relaxes into the mattress with a soft groan. Peppering kisses along the tops of his thighs, you slowly ascend the body you’ve been aching for all day and his hands run lazily over your skin, making room for you to crawl into bed beside him.

“That was…somethin’,” he sighs, a slow spreading smile gracing his face when he turns his head to look at you and you prop yourself up on your elbow, running your fingers through the hair just under his navel.

Catching your hand, he brings it to his mouth with a kiss.

Laying in silence together, the sounds of the night filter in through the open window on the soft breeze that tickles your sweat damp skin. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent you’d been dreaming about all day straight from the source and your bodies slowly relax together, entwined.

When you feel his breathing even out into a slow rise and fall, you peek up at his face. Taking a moment to admire the profile of his nose, his long dark lashes, the gray gathered at his temples, you run the pad of your thumb across his bottom lip in a feather light touch. In his sleep, his lips purse as they chase the sensation and you smile, the movement so like June when you do the same thing to her.

Leaning forward to give him one last kiss, you reach over him and turn out the light.

#joel miller #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

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weasleyreidstyles · 4 months

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Serendipity

chapter five

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of drugs/weed but only minor, its an angsty one folks!!

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Madame Pomfrey had the house elves bring up food for you and the other occupants of the Hospital Wing when dinner time rolled around later that day. You enjoyed a plate full of roast chicken, potatoes and mash before the plate was magically vanished upon you finishing it before the matron came to check on you again.

Some time after that, the doors to the Hospital Wing are pushed open with an echoing creak but you didn't look up from your book to see who it was until your copy of Pride & Prejudice was plucked right out of your hands.

"Hey!" you protest, going to grab the book back from Mattheo Riddle's grasp. "Oh it's you."

"You sound so happy to see me." he teases as he sits on the edge of your bed. You stare from the fabric of the bed sheets to where he's sitting with raised brows.

"There's a perfectly good seat right next to you." you grumble as he enters your personal space.

"The seats are uncomfortable, I'd rather not sit on them again after I spent a good hour waiting for you to wake up earlier." he replied, forcing you to move over so that he could fit properly on the bed next to you.

"You stayed?" you asked incredulously. "Why?"

"You passed out the second we all saw Bell on the bed. I was worried. Sue me."

"Awh you care about me." you cooed, jokingly patting his knee before rolling your eyes.

He picked up the book that he had taken from you and flipped it around cover to cover, reading the blurb and scrunching his face up. "What's your book about? I don't understand it."

As you begin to explain Elizabeth Bennett's intricate and turbulent relationship with Mr. Darcy with fervour, Mattheo can't help but stare at you with eyes full of admiration and...something else.

Some time later, the dreaded conversation ended up coming around. You tell him how odd it felt when you saw the necklace; how your weird intuition seemed to carry over to the Hospital Wing when you saw Katie; to Dumbledore's cryptic visit.

"Dumbledore spoke to you?" he asked, curiously.

"Well at first he complimented my Occlimency abilities. Thank you by the way." you start. "But then he asked me about what happened when Katie was cursed."

Mattheo listened as you talked, nodding his head to show that he was paying attention.

"...and then he asked me to tell him what I felt when I touched a ring that he had in his possession."

"A ring?" A look crosses Mattheo's face, but it's gone in an instant.

"The magic was similar to the necklace, but different at the same time." you continue, picturing the Riddle insignia in your mind. "Dumbledore's hand is the way it is because of it."

You didn't know whether you should tell him about what Dumbledore said about Professor Slughorn, that seemed like something Dumbledore would want to be kept under wraps.

"He didn't really give me a solid answer, but he gave me sound career advice." you say with a huff.

"What happened when he gave you the ring?"

"Same thing that happened when I touched Katie. It burned me. But my magic was surrounding the ring this time. It felt...odd."

"Huh." He's quiet for a moment before he changes the subject once more.

"Your friends spoke to Professor Mcgonagall and Professor Snape earlier, after you fainted." he said. "Potter thinks it was Draco that cursed her. Accused him right in front of them."

"Did he do it? Malfoy?" you interject, Harry's theories had become more consistent over the last few weeks, and you weren't surprised to hear that he had suspected that Malfoy was behind this, despite ludicrous the allegations were.

"He had detention with Mcgonagall today. Didn't show up to transfiguration remember? He was pretty pissed off about missing the first Hogsmeade weekend." he says and you recall the detention being issued a few days ago when Malfoy appeared in the doorway of the Transfiguration classroom a quarter of an hour late.

"Right. Yeah." you say tiredly, somewhat unconvinced but you push the feeling aside when he begins to stand.

"Where are you going?" you say with a yawn, reaching for his left forearm. He winces but you don't catch it in your tired state.

"You're getting tired, and it's almost curfew. I need to get back to my common room so I don't risk getting a detention."

"Pansy's patrolling tonight. You'll be fine." you say, dragging him to sit down. "Stay a little longer. At least until I fall asleep. Please?"

The way you looked at him with your big, tired eyes caused him to falter.

"You don't really want me to stay, Princess." he murmured but he didn't move to stand again.

"I hate when you call me that." you say. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise, Mattheo. I don't want to fall asleep alone in here."

"Alright, move over then." his resolve crumbles and he moves to lie down behind you, using an arm around your waist to drag your body closer to his, his body heat warming you from the inside.

It takes you no time at all to fall asleep in his embrace, feeling the most comfortable you'd ever felt in your entire life. In your sleepy haze, you swore you felt him kiss the side of your temple, murmuring into your soft skin.

"Good night, sweetheart." he had whispered, before he fell asleep shortly after you.

~∞~

The week following his visit to the Hospital Wing, your interactions with Mattheo were few and far between.

Your lessons had dwindled after he had first started skipping out on you, but now he seemed hellbent on avoiding you altogether.

He had once again skipped your Ancient Runes lesson that week and Theo proved to be of little help when he refused to tell you where his best friend was. Pansy seemed to be growing increasingly agitated by her two friends over the course of the time Mattheo was ignoring you.

"For Salazar's sake, Teddy. Mattheo's just been a little busy this week." she said. "No need to worry. I think he's been doing extra Potions work."

"Do you know where he is now?" you ask your friend with pleading eyes.

Like Theo, she seemed reluctant to give you the boy's location, as if they knew something that you weren't supposed to know, but in the end they shared a look and relented.

"He's in the Room of Requirement." Teddy says, before his hands gently grip your shoulders. "But we never told you, okay. I don't want to die a premature death, tesoro."

"Thank you. I won't tell him you helped, don't worry Teddy." you reassured him before walking down the corridor and towards the system of staircases that would take you to the seventh floor.

Due to the interval between lessons ending and new ones beginning, it seemed to take you ages to get from point A to B, with everyone lingering in or rushing through the corridors but when you got to the familiar wall, you waited.

I need to see Mattheo.

I need to-

The door began materialising in front of your eyes, reminiscent of the late evenings that you'd come here with your friends for DA meetings before Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad had it disbanded. Your hand still had that prominent scar from the two weeks of detention you had each received: I must not disobey the Ministry.

When the door was fully formed, you twisted the handle and slipped through.

The room appeared to be huge and full to the brim with piles upon piles of junk. It was going to take you forever to find him, but you knew he was in there somewhere.

You started down a pathway that had appeared between some old arm chairs and bookshelves and followed where your gut was telling you to go.

It was quiet, too quiet and you were about to give up hope when you saw Mattheo lounging on a dark velvet chaise lounge, a blunt hanging in his lips, something shiny resting in his lap that looked an awful lot like a tiara, which he vanished away when he saw you.

"So this is what you do in your spare time?" you ask, hesitantly sitting at the edge of the chaise lounge, by his feet.

He only sighed as he took another hit of the blunt, leaving you to carry on speaking without a reply.

"How'd you even get that into the school? It's more illegal for wizards to get their hands on than muggles." you turn your head to face him only to find him staring straight ahead, avoiding your gaze altogether.

You huffed before you stood up and rounded the chaise to stand directly in front of him; he continued to stare in the opposite direction.

"For Rowena's sake, Riddle. Look at me." you snapped, using the pads of your fingers to firmly direct his face to yours.

His gaze was void of emotions when he stared at you. Like it had been all the times before when he'd antagonise Harry or Ron with his friends. His eyes were no longer soft like they had been with you these past months. They were cold and dark and angry.

If you hadn't have grown some sort of friendship with him, if you could even call it that, then you'd happily go on ignoring his existence again. But for some reason, you couldn't shake him, wouldn't shake this hold he had on you.

"What do you want, Meadow?" he asked, voice low and raspy, as if he'd not spoken in a while. "I thought you'd get the hint by now? Or are you seriously that stupid?"

"You confuse the absolute fuck out of me, Riddle." you say, beginning to grow annoyed at his apparent nonchalance. "What's your issue? You agree to help me out for Theo's sake and the second it gets complicated you what? You just....leave?"

"'S not like we're mates, Meadow." he grumbles, rolling his eyes as he takes another hit. "Actually I'm pretty sure we're supposed to be enemies."

"The whole point of the lessons is for me to help you and your friends get out, is it not?"

"To get them out. Not me. That wasn't the deal." he snaps.

"I agreed to help. That includes you, too."

"And how did you honestly expect that to go down? Huh!" he stood up so suddenly that you stumbled backwards, into the table that was behind you.

"How do you think the Order will react when you go to them, pleading for my case? The son of The Dark Lord on their side? They'd sooner call you a traitor for even associating with any of us." he had gotten closer to you, so much so that the toes of his shoes kissed your's.

"They would be understanding. If you told them how much you hate him-"

"And you think they'd actually believe that?" he snaps, stepping even closer to you. You had to press your hands against his firm chest to stop him trapping you further against the table. "They'd show mercy to Theo and the others. That's all I care about. I didn't want any of them to be involved. You need to get them out. Not me."

"But why?" you question harshly, looking at him through your lashes. His brown eyes were pure onyx now, no traces of the boy you'd gotten to know were present.

"I am my father's son, sweetheart. My fate has been sealed since the day I was born. There's no helping me." he says quietly, his eyes boring into your's.

"Let me help you. Please." you say resolutely. "We'll think of something. They have to hear you out."

"They won't."

"They have to." you insist. "What kind of people would they be if they refuse to help someone in need."

"They can't help someone who can't be saved, sweetheart."

"For fuck's sake Mattheo! Why are you being so stubborn?!" you snap, your voice raising in octaves that surprises both of you.

"Why are you so determined to save me?" he shouts back, leaning down so that your faces are level. His hands sit on either side of your thighs, bracketing you to the table as his breathe huffs against your cheek, the scent of weed and smoke overtaking your senses. He's breathing heavily, eyes flicking between your's and your lips. Mattheo seems to be holding onto what little resolve he has left before the unthinkable happens.

He's staring at your lips now. Your breathe hitches as he seems to contemplate something but you can't see his thoughts very clearly.

It's only a split second decision but you can see it, the moment he decides to let go.

"Fuck it." he mumbles before his mouth decends on your's. In your shock you don't realise that you've practically frozen until he pulls away with wide eyes.

"Shit- Meadow I'm sorry I-" you snap out of your frozen state and don't let him finish his sentence as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and kiss him like your life depended on it.

The feeling is euphoric. His lips are like a warm and gentle hug against your own; it feels right. Like the missing piece of a never ending puzzle was finally put back into place. You're so in your head that you don't even register the unceremonious moan you let out when Mattheo's tongue sensually brushes your own. It allows him to deepen the kiss and you think you might die happily right then and there, with his soft lips on your's.

Gods, sweetheart. he groans, his inhibitions down, so you feel everything he feels. Every thought and every desire. If I knew kissing you felt this good, I would've done that much sooner.

When you eventually pull away from eachother, only a hair of space was left between you, your breathing equally heavy.

His onyx eyes held that familiar softness that he seemed to only show around you, his lips quirked into a cheeky grin.

Merlin, he was the most attractive boy you'd ever layed eyes on. It was then that you realised that you were well and truely fucked.

~∞~

omg they kissed 🫢🫢

the one bed trope gets me every time 🤭🤭 i think we can all agree that mattheos a bit of an idiot but the guy's got his secrets...😁

and i love angst and slow burns so much but i couldn't help myself lol i love a '"fuck it" and they kiss' moment but im sorry this was short. i was contemplating carrying this on or splitting the chapter into two which is what im doing so really this is more of a filled chapter for whats to come ;)

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora

#harry potter #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theo nott #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle x you #angst #serendipity series

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Note

🌱 with luke!! going to see him play for the first tim in person at his nhl games

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 585

♡ ─ warnings | luke being downbad for u, jack teasing you two (nothing too bad tho), just fluff!

♡ ─ ev's notes | this was such a fun blurb LOL

You waited for Luke and Jack at the player's entrance, excitement running through your veins. It had been a couple weeks since you'd seen Luke and this was the first game you'd attended since he had officially signed with the Devils. Now after a great win, you and the others are planning on going out to eat to celebrate not only the win, but finally being able to see your boyfriend.

After the exhilarating win, the atmosphere outside the entrance was filled with joy and relief. As the players filed out, you scanned the crowd for Luke and Jack before finally spotting them among the sea of their teammates, your heart skipped a beat. Luke's face lit up happily as he caught sight of you, and he quickly made his way over, still flushed from the game as Jack followed suit.

"Hey, there you are!" Luke exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Couldn't have picked a better game to come to, huh?"

"That was such a good game, you did so well." You responded warmly as Luke kept his arm around you proudly. "I feel like such a proud WAG, like the ones on TikTok."

Luke laughed as he shook his head, "Oh yeah, that was the main goal - to make sure you get to brag about your boyfriend who's now officially in the NHL."

"How does it feel to be the best rookie this year?" You smiled, teasing him playfully.

Luke's cheeks flushed with a mix of modesty and pride. "Oh well, I mean... Let's not get ahead of ourselves. But it does feel pretty good. Hard work pays off, I guess."

"Don't let it get to your head, man. We need you focused for the next game." Jack playfully added as he looked at his brother, a smile on his face.

"You're too modest, Luke, you were so good out there." You grinned up at your tall boyfriend as he squeezed your shoulders.

Luke beamed at your compliment, appreciating your undying support. "Well, having the best cheerleader definitely helps," he said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

Jack watched as you two shared a small kiss, letting out an exaggerated gag as Luke pulled away with an eye roll. "Jesus, can you two save the PDA for, I don't know, not in front of me?" Jack teased, earning himself a playful shove from Luke.

Luke shot Jack a playful glare, "You're just jealous because you don't have someone cheering for you so proudly."

You laughed at Luke's comment as he pulled you closer, earning a dramatic scoff from Jack. "Luke I've got fan-girls all over the world. If I wanted a girlfriend, I'd have one-"

"Whatever, whatever." Luke dismissed with a smirk, "I'm just saying, it's different when you've got someone who knows you inside out, someone who's got your back no matter what."

Your heart fluttered as you watched Luke, your lips beginning to hurt from all the smiling.

Jack rolled his eyes, a subtle smile played on his lips. "Shut up dude, save the relationship advice for later. Plus I'm living my best life right now. No commitments, no stress, no nothing."

Luke glanced at you with a smirk as you two bursted out laughing, causing an annoyed to leave Jack's mouth as he began walking away. "We getting food or what? I'm starving."

"Absolutely," you replied, still chuckling from the joke.

Luke slung an arm around your shoulders, and together, you followed Jack outside to the car.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Text

It was kinda like an open secret, the fact that they were together. And if Steve was being honest with himself, even that was a stretch.

And it was one hundred percent their fault. Well...mostly it was Eddie's fault. The second they were with whoever he deemed "safe" Eddie would be all over him. Whether it was pet names, casually wrapping an arm around his waist, dragging him to sit on his lap, a kiss to his forehead, Eddie was far from shy when it came to handing out affection.

And if Steve did absolutely nothing to stop him when it happened well...that was Eddie's fault too. What else was Steve supposed to do when the man he loved was so openly sweet and affectionate? Say no? Put a stop to the behavior that made him feel like he was the most important person in Eddie's world? Give up the chaste hugs and kisses that made him feel like he was walking on air?

Yeah, no. It wasn't Steve's fault that Eddie made him feel so good, so the blame could stay laid at his feet.

Yep, totally Eddie's fault, Steve had nothing to do with it.

But there were only so many times you could call your new "best friend" baby before people started asking questions. Robin knew, Wayne knew, Nancy knew, and Steve was pretty sure all of Eddie’s age-appropriate friends were well aware.

And the kids would figure it out when they figured it out. It's not that they didn't trust them to accept their relationship, it was more that they would be too accepting. And way too involved. And Steve wanted to bask in the honeymoon period before all of his little shits started giving unprompted advice on his love life, and Eddie felt the same way.

So they lied, but only a little. Or more that Steve lied. Whenever it was a Steve and Eddie date night exclusive and the kids were vying for attention or rides, he'd tell them was hanging out with Robin or working late. But Eddie would just smile and shake his head to any asks, always with a painfully sincere, "Can't tonight, I got a date with my sweetheart."

His sweetheart who, none of the kids could meet until, in his words, he officially locked it down, the silly little speech never failing in making Steve blush and smile like an idiot. It was always enough to make the kids back off, and for the moment, their little plan seemed to be working.

But Steve wasn't sure how long it would stay that way, not when Eddie was very suddenly elected as the go-to for advice on the kids' love lives.

Which ow. Steve had experience with relationships, maybe not good experiences until very recently, but he had them! But the kids bypassed him every time in favor of the "one" adult in their lives who actually was seeing someone. And Steve didn't have the heart to break it to them that he was the only one their new love genius had ever been with.

Lucas had started it, faux casual at a Hellfire meetup, with Steve lazily reading magazines in the corner while he waited for his nerd boyfriend to be done so their night could actually begin.

"Hey Eddie, you've been seeing your girlfriend for a while right?"

Eddie nodded, "We're closing in at six months, why?"

Lucas rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Well...what would you do if say, you know they love you, and you love them, but they never let you help them with anything? Like...they always act like they're a burden when they're really just the best?"

Steve perked up at the question. silently watching as Eddie considered it.

He nodded along, thoughtful, “I was with someone like that once, always thinking about everyone else but never themselves. I guess you kinda just have to love it out of them y'know? Like give them the space they ask for sure, but let them know that you're always there for them. Not because you have to but because you want to.”

Eddie took a chance and glanced at Steve while he spoke, giving him the quickest wink known to mankind. Steve hid behind his magazine, ears red with a stupid, lovestruck smile as Lucas thanked him.

Then it was Dustin. He sprung it on them while Steve was driving him over to the Wheeler's place, Eddie flipping through radio stations while Dustin was prattling to them in the backseat, "So I was trying to explain it to her, and she totally flipped out and hung up! She said that I think I'm smarter than her, which is totally untrue! Suzie is the smartest person I know!"

Steve snorted, "I told you you could be condescending-"

Dustin glared at him, waving him away, "I'm asking Eddie thank you very much! "I just thought she knew that I know she's smarter than me. So what should I do?"

Eddie shrugged, "I was with someone like that once, super, super smart but they could never acknowledge it in the way I thought they should. For them though, it was because people always talked down to them and never made the effort to see how they were smart. There are a lot of different kinds of intelligence out there right? So just let her know that there are some things you're better at but you know that for most things she's the gold star child."

Eddie glanced back at Dustin, rolling his eyes when he realized the kid was actually taking notes, but it gave him a chance to stealthily grab Steve's hand and squeeze it with a wide grin, "It isn't fair, but rarely does the smartest person in a room, know that it's them."

And if Steve couldn't help but kiss the daylights out of him while they were still in the Wheeler's driveway after that little speech, he stood that it was still Eddie's fault for being so sweet.

The kids kept coming to Eddie for advice, mostly because it usually worked. Some of it Steve was there for and some of it he wasn't, but it never stopped embarrassing the living hell out of him to hear himself be talked about so positively and sweetly, especially if it came out of the mouths of one of the kid's, unknowingly repeating stories and advice centered around Steve.

It was Will who finally cracked it, because who else? They were all at the Harrington place, taking full advantage of the absentee parents and pool during a hot summer day. Wil found the two of them in the kitchen, in the middle of a stupid debate over the best action movie of the year, sharing a popsicle back and forth while they play-fought.

He looked nervous as he walked up to them, looking anywhere but at their faces, "Hey Eddie, do you mind if I ask you something?"

Eddie nodded, snatching the last of the popsicle from Steve's hand, ignoring his whining, "Sure dude, what's up?"

"Have you ever, um, liked someone who you thought didn't like you back? But then they started...acting different?"

Eddie cocked his head at him, "Elaborate."

"Like...just treating you differently. More touchy-feely and attentive maybe? Do you think...that means anything? Has that ever happened to you?"

Steve glanced out the kitchen window, eyes on Mike as he sat at the edge of the pool, legs dangling over the side while his head was on a swivel, no doubt looking for Will.

It didn't take a genius to guess who he was talking about.

Eddie shrugged, "Not exactly? But I have gone after someone majorly out of my league before. And that worked out. I'd say just be straight forward and confident. Ask if they're interested, or if you can't do that ask them how'd they feel if you got with someone else. That can sometimes get the ball rolling if they're being too tight-lipped about their feelings."

Will nodded along, "So is that how you got Steve?"

Steve froze while Eddie laughed, not even catching on to the slip, "I got Steve by crying to his loose-lipped best friend about how in love with him I was. Not the best example."

And of course, that was the moment Dustin decided to walk in the room.

Steve brought a hand to his mouth, laughing behind it as Dustin froze, staring wide-eyed at Eddie, "You're with Steve?!"

Eddie whipped around to face him, but Dustin was already staring at Steve, "So the someone like that, has been you this whole time?!"

Steve was still laughing behind his hand as Dustin skittered out, no doubt to announce to the whole backyard just where their great love advice had been coming from.

Will followed him, winking at them over his shoulder as he went. Eddie was still standing there, confused on how one of the munchkins just bamboozled him into telling the longest kept secret he ever had.

Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder, just as voices started to raise from the background, coupled with a few yells around someone owing Will money, "Guess the secret's out huh?"

Eddie turned to face him with a sigh, smacking a kiss to his forehead, "You realize this means you're going to have to help with the love advice now right?"

Steve groaned, "I thought my existence was the help."

"Nope, it's your turn to give the love advice about me from now on."

Steve laughed, leaning in to kiss him chastely on the mouth. They grinned at each other, enjoying their last moments of peace before the whole gaggle of kids made they're way into the room, armed with questions and accusations galore.

But that was okay, Steve was more than ready for it to be his turn.

#steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #the party #get em will #silly little thing #you'll pry my insanely long posts out of my cold dead hands

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months

Note

Can we get the obey me boys(the brothers + dia, barbs, solomon, and simeon) reacting to mc having severe period cramps? Would they get all demon-y at the smell of blood?

Love your stuff btw!

Signed, a yandere junkie~

I'll do two for now 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Period | Yandere Obey Me

For those in the devildom having a draw for chaos and mortal pain it’s quite normal for blood to bring about a different kind of reaction. But to the surprise of no one period blood and the whole menstrual cycle is a complete bafflement to all who catch a whiff. Don’t worry though, you have the brother and your various friends. This surely won’t strike any of them to have an unusual streak in emotion and self-control, right?:

Lucifer

“It’s that time I’m suspecting?”

“Yes.”

“Understood rest easy, take your time to rest my dear.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Do you doubt my promise to keep you?”

One of the most casual about it

He absolutely has done research for this exact occasion

But nothing is like experience in taking care of you himself

As well as the compulsion that has him being just as reactive as you

“You seem a bit different today Lucifer…”

“Am I? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oooh is that a gift from (Y/n)--”

“dON’t ToUCh tHaT!”

“...”

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s with me this week.”

You’re not with him that’s what

For all the necessities he delivers he’s been keeping his distance

Taking the advice of the human care books he gave you your space

After all who better to deal with the human-female innerworkings than a human-female herself

But something feels wrong more than usual

And it only seems to stop when he returns to your side at the end of the day

“Perhaps the hormones that are at work in you create a…guardian of sorts…out of me.”

He doesn’t really understand, all he knows is that when you were preparing to go to RAD he frantically calmly decided you’d not be attending

His excuse reasoning? That he would hate for any lesser demon to feel what he’s feeling

That and he’d actually try to kill anyone who shows such similar inclination to protect you

“If anyone should stay to soothe you in this great time of need. I’m not above massacring any threats to you while you’re at your most vulnerable..”

Generally he’s quite tame

…compared to his brothers

Diavolo

“Hey (Y/n) why’d you run off like that I thought we were having a good time.”

“Diavolo!?”

“Oh…hey (Y/n) if you’re hurt it’s okay to tell us we have tons of things that help heal humans.”

“Ugh! No that’s not what’s happening here!”

“Don’t be embarrassed here i’ll help!”

“Aghghgh!!!! Barbatos! Barb–Ah! Don’t you dare!”

A scolding and prompt lesson from Barbatos is very much in order

For someone so adamant on urging the blending of their worlds he doesn’t really know about this side of humanity

And unfortunately he’s never been one for backseat learning

“(Y/n), we’ve spoken and Diavolo would like to propose a hands-on-lesson with you about your menstrual cycle.”

“Uhm what kind of lesson?”

“One that will require he familiarize himself with all aspects of this process. Something that would preferably stimulate the five senses.”

“....”

“....Lucifer!!!! Solomon!!!”

Even better it has to do with you

What better way to strengthen your bond by having to monitor you

Not only for your safety but for all of humanity

“Hey later on we should definitely watch that movie together!”

“Oh yeah I thin–”

“I’m sorry but she cannot!”

“What why not?”

“Because she’s coming with me! The best place for a woman on muenster cycle is with me at the royal palace.”

“Uhm that’s not tr-”

“Here I’ll take you now!”

He’s going to be hard to teach

But once you sit him down or snap at him one too many times

He’ll decide listening to you is the best course of action

In turn it will definitely build a relationship between you two

It may not be as romantic as he planned

But he’ll take it….for now

After all there’s one every month

“That was fun! I can’t wait until the next time!”

Because he’s actively testing for it he might find some demons and creatures that react to it

But he won’t actively experiment with you in danger

Because it’s just not a good look to brutally murder every other subject of his that has a reaction he doesn’t like

“Next month I’ll have to convince them to let me get a swab or whole container full that’d be really hot.”

#yandere obey me #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #obey me shall we date #yandere obey me lucifer #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere diavolo #yandere diavolo x reader #yandere obey me diavolo #yandere obey me shall we date

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anadiasmount · 3 months

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what could’ve been - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: based on this request! brother bsf! after a heavy international loss, jude can only cope and receive comfort from his bsf little sister in her arms despite someone walking in on them…

wc: 1.7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa🗣️: WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I RECEIVED THIS!! ik it’s not the longest but still filled with heavy and forbidden touches with jude 😵‍💫🤭 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

you felt torn apart. feeling limb by limp being swept away as you try to cope with the realization they were kicked out to their deserved semi-finals. you couldn’t hear the commotion around you, feeling drips of water fall on you from some fans angry or happily celebrating, only blinking rapid to see if what happened was real or not.

you sunk into the seat, hands covering your face as you felt the need to be pushed into a dark corner and never come out. you felt pity, remorse and overwhelmed with the sight of your brother and his teammates crouched on the floor or wiping their tears away.

you felt for them. it wasn’t a easy match, one of the heaviest tournaments and going against the winner of the last world cup didn’t help. they had a strong team, they had it in the bag before all hell broke loose. one minute you cheered, then next you were trying to hold the choked sobs your body begged to be let out.

you could only stare around with tearful eyes and a heavy pain in your chest as you looked around the stadium before your eyes finally landed on them. your brother consoling jude who tried to control his tears, hugging each other tight almost afraid to let go.

you stayed in your spot, waiting for your brother to appear and come up to the stands. “i genuinely don’t know what to say,” your mom says quietly. you nod agreeing with you, feeling as she hugged your side and brought her to you. “maybe it’s best we leave him, he’ll come to us like he always does when he’s ready to talk,” you reply, bitting your lip to hold back your tears.

you saw your brother send the three of you a quick wake and kiss, shaking his head in dissatisfaction he didn’t want to speak and wanted to be left alone. jude trailed behind him, locking eyes with yours, feeling a familiarity in your tummy as he gave you a sad smile and wave. you reciprocated the action, seeing him whisper a “thank you for being here.”

you felt the first tear and then the one roll down your cheek onto your england jersey, being pushed away into the tunnel back into a reality you dreaded. you felt pissed and angry at the opposing teams fans who cheered loudly as they walked into the shuttles. earning some laughters or side remarks when all you wanted was to go in a tuck into your sheets.

your brother hadn’t checked in yet, so you’d decided to stay up a bit longer knowing he tended to go on walks after rough loss to clear his head. plus you could also imagine the squad comforting each other, and wanting to be there for everyone. you were grateful for that and their ability of having a brotherhood when it most mattered.

while you could also feel for your brother, you randomly began thinking of jude as well. the defeated and obvious sad look on his face as he processed the match. one of englands most youngest talented players at their first world cup and their luck being this.

you and him had a small history. he often came over a lot when they had time off. during those times when left alone a small friendship was built. either to talk about life, seeking advice, music you commonly shared, or when the group decided to leave both of you out.

you felt the need to distance yourself from him after the unexpected makeout session you had in your bedroom. he was your first kiss and it left a forever mark inside you. you knew it was wrong and the last thing you wanted was your brother cutting a long-standing friendship because of it. jude was hurt, eyes always roaming you when he came over and always trying to speak to you.

from jude:

please let me in.

your eyes immediately went wide when you saw him text you to open the door. frantically looking around when you heard the door knock, you quickly looked in the mirror and took deep breaths. this was the last thing you expected to happen especially tonight. your sweaty hand opened the door revealing a teared eyes jude with his nike tech set on.

you let him in, lips pursed not knowing what to say or even debating to say anything. you shifted your weight from one foot to another, you met his eyes, drowning in the rapidly as they never detached from yours. he let out a deep breath or sigh, eyes fluttering as his voice croaked.

he sat on the edge of the bed taking a deep gulp before speaking. “i didn’t know where else to go…” he looked around the room and his body language was refusing to deny what happened. "jude," you whispered quietly taking a small step. you saw his eyes watery looking at you, "can y-y-you just hold me?"

you immediately rushed to him, his head coming to your stomach as his hands wrapped around you. you let him hold you, hearing his loud sobs muffled as you tried to be strong for him. your hands rubbed the top of his shoulders, the other scratching the nape of his neck to comfort him.

you kneeled to his level, holding his face in your hands as you stroked away his tears, jude refusing to let you go as he controlled his breathing. "we can talk about it if you want? but if a quiet setting is what you need i understand too..." you say, thumb tracing his cheeks.

"can we cuddle on the bed? i think i'm ready to talk about it," jude replies, grabbing your hands and placing kisses all over them. you did as you asked, jude laying on top of you as we spoke for almost an hour about how he felt and how things could've gone differently.

you listened, continuing to hold him stroking his back and scratching to soothe his cries or stutters. you didn't interrupt once, wanting him to have the floor to relieve his pain and let his feelings known. you could hear the frustration, tiredness, anger, and disappointment but overall the sadness in his voice.

after a quick share of words and laughter before jude fell asleep, his arms tightly around you as he slept peacefully. you pushed away any feelings, wanting to be there for him when he most needed it. it didn't matter what happened in the past or how you felt for him, he needed consolation and you were grateful he was here with you.

"what the hell is this?!?!" you struggled to open your eyes, feeling the heavy weight on top of you still. you saw your brother standing, before throwing away the sheets that covered both of you. "y/n i swear to god. you two cant be serious right now!"

"please relax its not what it looks like," you said trying to explain the situation, as you stood up and jude as well. " 'it's not what it looks like' my ass! hes my best friend y/n! and here you guys are together and cuddled it up," your brother winced at the end, pacing back and forth with his fists clenched.

"i came here looking to talk with someone! nothing happened i swear! we ended up falling asleep," jude defended, earning an angry look from your brother. "yeah you on top of here like some sort of couple, explain that."

"you're overreacting! nothing happened, period. he was looking for comfort and wanted to talk about what just happened, we talked just that," you say frustrated, becoming pissed at your brother for making up assumptions. jude looked at you with sorry eyes, for getting you into this mess.

"y/n, you don't understand, he's my best friend-"

"you think i don't know that? i know he is, and you're my brother, you weren't the only one who lost tonight. we gave you the space you asked for, and jude is practically like family, so i will be here for him when he asks," you say, watching your brother scoff and give you a look of denial.

"jude you could've gone anywhere else! why her? my sister?" your brother ignored you, coming close face to face with jude. it stung you, hearing him sound almost disgusted of you. "everyone else has families, and they're with them. i had no one besides you and her," jude tried to reason again.

"and you chose her? were best friends jude-"

"i needed her! there i said it! i don't care what you or other people say, i needed y/n tonight. you weren't even here, you took those walks to clear your head and the last i wanted was to stress you out after tonight. i love your sister so much," jude confessed making you gasp and step in front of the two of them.

"i think we should-" you try to intervene as the scene becomes loud in the room, afraid it would wake up others and them going to complain.

"what?" your brother deadpans at jude.

"i said i love her. i have and for so long. and tonight the only person i wanted to see and needed was her. so i'm sorry if that upsets you and for saying it now, but i can't hold my feelings inside any longer," jude says. you're afraid to speak, feeling like a kid all over again about to get scolded for doing the wrong thing.

"i can't believe this," your brother sneers, shaking his head in disappointment and walking away. you call out for him crying trying to resonate but met with the door shutting close. "he hates me. he hates me," you say to yourself, hand coming to your heart as it beats loudly and fast.

"he doesn't hate you, he hates me for falling in love with you. this isn't anyone's fault, we can't control our emotions or feelings let alone let other people control ours, y/n. i said what i said because it's true, im so madly in love with you, baby." jude brushed your tears away, kissing your forehead in a comforting manner.

"jude-" you speak but jude asks you a question that leaves you hesitant about whether to confess how you feel for him or protect your heart to make your brother and everyone happy.

"are you in love with me?"

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader

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favefandomimagines · 1 year

Text

Baby on Board (e.b)

Summary: you find out your pregnant with Buck’s baby and have no idea how to tell him or how he will react.

AN: IM BAAAAACK (one time thing) you can thank 911 for that because we all know i have a soft spot for Evan Buckley

It felt like the world became one big blur. Everything around you seemingly fell out of focus as you stared down at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. A mixture of fear, nerves and excitement settled into your stomach.

In any other instant, you’d be ecstatic. If you were following your life plan correctly, you’d be married and have a steady job before getting pregnant.

But you weren’t following your life plan at all. You were in a steady relationship for a few years but you didn’t know if marriage was in the cards yet. You didn’t know how Buck felt about marriage. You definitely didn’t know how he was going to feel about a baby. How were you supposed to tell him?

You thought a baby would for sure ruin whatever plans Buck had. You were terrified of his reaction. You loved Buck more than anything and of course you wanted a family with him. But was it too soon?

In a wave of panic, you grabbed your purse and your keys and left the apartment. You had no idea where to go at first, all of your friends were Buck’s friends.

Eddie was always nice to you and you were closer to him than anyone else. You had hoped he wouldn’t be angry or upset that you were putting him in this situation but you needed advice.

The only reason you knew Eddie was home was because him and Buck were on alternating schedules. Eddie worked overnight and Buck worked during the day.

When Eddie opened the door, he was surprised to see you standing on his porch with tears in your eyes. “Y/N? Are you okay?” Eddie asked, grabbing hold of your hand entry and brought you inside.

“I need your help, actually. Well, more like advice.” You spoke. “What’s going on?” Eddie questioned. “I’m pregnant. Obviously it’s Buck’s but how am I supposed to tell him? We haven’t talked about kids yet, hell we haven’t even talked about marriage that much. I just, I don’t know what to do.” You explained, the tears falling.

Eddie took you in his arms and hugged you tightly, mainly just to calm you down. “First, take some breaths. You’re going to be okay. Second, I think Buck is going to be ecstatic.” He said. “But what if-“ you started before Eddie cut you off. “No buts. Sure it’s not the most conventional way to have a baby, but I hear how Buck talks about you. He talks about like you’re the center of the universe. Technically, you are, at least to him,” Eddie started.

“Buck loves you. There is nothing that would make him not love you. And he was born to be a dad and you’re going to give him that.” He finished. You sniffled and wiped the tears from your face.

“What if you’re wrong?” You whispered. “Hey, you came here for a reason. You know I’m not wrong.” He said. “How did Shannon tell you? If you don’t mind me asking.” You asked. “She knew I was enlisting. So she just said it, didn’t want to wait any longer. Especially if I didn’t make it home.” He answered.

You nodded your head slightly and let out a sigh of relief. “I’m scared.” You said. “You are one of the strongest people I know. You can do this.” Eddie said.

You thanked him again, very grateful you went to him other than someone else. Now all you had to do was wait.

—

Buck was due to be home any minute and you just finished making him his favorite breakfast; waffles, bacon, eggs sunny side up. He’d know something was up because the last time you made him that breakfast was when you told him you loved him for the first time.

“Honey, I’m home.” He teased, entering the home. “Hey, how was your shift?” You asked. “Good, just run of the mill stuff. What’s with the breakfast?” Buck asked.

You were quiet for a moment, that being enough for Buck to see something was up. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He asked, approaching you. “I need to tell you something. Something really important.” You said.

“Okay. You’re kind of freaking me out though.” Buck replied with a small laugh.

“I’m pregnant, Buck.” You finally said. At first, the room was quiet and you feared the worst.

The voice in the back of your head said he was going to run out the door and you’ll never see him again.

“You’re pregnant?” He questioned. “I’m sorry.” You said. “No, no, why are you sorry? Don’t be sorry, not for this.” Buck said. You looked up at him and saw the way his eyes lit up and the smile on his face. “You aren’t mad?” You questioned.

“Of course I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you.” Buck said, taking your hand. “I-I know this isn’t the best way for us to start a family but-“ You started. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He interrupted, pulling you into an embrace.

Buck held you for a moment, feeling like everything was falling into place for him. For so long he felt like he was at a standstill. That there was no real progress happening in his life.

But now, he was going to be a dad.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He said sweetly to you. “I love you too.” You replied. Buck leaned in and kissed you sweetly before pulling you into his arms.

“Does anyone else know?” Buck asked. “I-I panicked when I found out and I didn’t know how you’d react so I went to Eddie. So only him.” You said.

Buck smiled widely at you, holding you close. “We’re having a baby.” He said. “Yeah, we’re having a baby.” You replied.

The rest of the night, all Buck could talk about was baby names, if it was going to be a boy or a girl, buying a house. Everything was all falling into place for the both of you.

#imagine #imagines #911 imagine #911 fox #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader

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thisismeracing · 1 month

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hi, was wondering if you would be able to write an imagine about lando norris inspired by ariana grande's new song, we can't be friends. i really love how you write thats why i left this request. hope you'd be able to do it! thank you! <3 much love!

We can't be friends | LN4

⸺ the one where they loved each other, but for outside circumstances couldn't even be friends. ✓ mentions of online hate, rumors of cheating; angsty. fem!reader (she/her).

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

You were his teammate's before you were his.

You were Oscar's girlfriend. Oscar's best friend. Oscar's rock.

And Lando admired Oscar, he even felt protective of the driver. Yet, he couldn't help but wish the one thing he couldn't: your love.

Lando was your boyfriend's good friend, as close as it could be to becoming best friends, as close as a working relationship would let. He was the one Oscar ran to when he needed to vent about driving, or needed advice. Yet, you couldn't help but fall for the one person you couldn't: Lando.

It happened too fast. It took you by surprise. One second you were visiting the McLaren facility for the first time, and the second you were facing ocean-green eyes with a hint of light blue. One second honey brown was your favorite, the other you couldn't help but crave the unknown of light green. You thought it was a good friendship, the kind people write those sayings about, souls that find each other but aren't supposed to fall romantically, souls that are destined to be friends, the best of friends. However, you did crave it.

Lando knew how to make you laugh the way no one else knew. He had the best hug in the world, strong arms, warm body, his breath hitting your skin just right. One glance and you were done.

And done is what you decided to be with your years-long relationship with Oscar. You would not lead Piastri on. Before his girlfriend, you were his best friend, and so you sat down and with teary eyes told him you fell for someone else. The Aussie was a smart guy, he tried to brush it off all those months, he told himself Lando was that friendly with everyone, that the British worried about everyone else the way he worried about you, while deep down he knew something else was growing, something else was already there by the time you so much as shared your first glance. But you were his first love, his first girlfriend, his best friend. You shared everything together. He won with you by his side, he lost with you there too, so Piastri wasn't ready to let go.

That's the funny thing about heartbreak, it doesn't wait until you're ready, it doesn't give you an evacuation notice, it just bursts in one day and tells you that the house that used to be filled with joy and love is about to be empty for God knows how long.

Oscar wasn't ready for his house to be vacant. Because the void would feel so much bigger without his teammate as well, it was obvious that their friendship would be compromised after the end of his relationship. He lost not only his lover but his friend as well.

Hence why he was so bitter about that particular ending. You took everything with you. Every memory of his life had you, the happiest and saddest, and you didn't even leave him the option of blaming you, because you broke up with him. You didn't cheat. You didn't go behind his back. You chose to end things with him so that you could be with Lando, and for a few days, even weeks, Oscar wished that you had cheated on him, that you had broken his heart in the nastiest possible way, because what you did end up being even worse.

When you started attending more races you knew you couldn't be friends with Lando, you told him so. It was too risky, too hard. Impossible. So you kept repeating to each other you couldn't be friends until one day you could – or so you thought. Because as it turns out, when you're famous your life is not always yours, not only yours. Oscar was famous.

And so was Lando.

The public was already reading between the lines whenever you interacted with Lando. People can try to lie with their bodies, but their eyes usually turn them in, and you guessed your eyes turned you and Lando to the fans. So much so, that they decided to throw hate when your breakup with Oscar was announced.

Every piece of social life you had was disturbed by spam accounts and fan accounts. Angry and bitter messages. Threats and more threats.

Lando's career was on the line, and so was yours because people started showing up at your work asking about you, about Oscar, and about the British guy you were in love with.

Oscar kept his silence. His heart was too shattered for him to care. The truth was, somehow, he felt like that was your curse: you couldn't even be friends anymore. Not him and you. Not you and Lando. Not him and Lando.

"I'll be alright," Lando whispered trying to give you a small glimpse of reassurance.

You nodded, you knew it was true – or so you hoped, but for that to be true you would have to give up way too much. "We can't be friends," you confessed, and the silence almost swallowed you two. It broke your heart the way his eyes shone with tears, the eyes you loved so much, eyes you wanted to swim in, lost yourself in. "But for today I would like to just pretend," you added, intertwining your fingers.

Lando bit his lips but nodded, the situation was complex. You used your free hand to trace his sharp features and closed your eyes when your noses bumped. You felt his warmth, held him close one last time, kissed him in a final way – a way only lovers that wish with all their being to be together but can't, knew.

When you realized your feelings for Lando, you knew you couldn't be anything more than friends. Just friends. Now, a couple of months later, not even that would suffice. You couldn't be your lover's love, and worst of all you couldn't be your lover's friend.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honey! Hope this met your expectations! <3 I feel like I dived a bit too far from the song, but hopefully it's still good! Let me know your thoughts *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

After the almost end of the world, Steve tells Eddie that he can have a shower first.

It feels surreal that they’ve both made it here—that Eddie is standing in his hallway, leaving mud stains on the floor from his boots: remnants of The Upside Down mixed with normal dirt.

Steve almost wants to ask if he can walk around some more, create countless marks as proof of his existence; hell, even take his hand and run it down the beige walls.

Leave a trail, Steve thinks, through a fog of complete and utter exhaustion. So I know it’s real. So I can find my way back to you.

What he says instead is, “Try not to get your dressings wet.”

Eddie pauses on the stairs. Smiles. “Okay, nurse,” he says, and it’s a gentle tease if anything, his voice softened by tiredness.

He’s holding himself a little stiffly while turned to speak, his upper body almost at an angle.

Steve thinks about the jagged line down his side (“If the bats died, like, ten seconds later, you’d have—you asshole,” Dustin had rambled through tears, thumping Eddie on the arm); how Eddie had narrowly avoided a hospital stay. Thinks of the way Eddie tried to reassure Dustin, fiddling with the guitar pick hanging around his neck in a show of nonchalance—but Steve still saw how his hand shook.

“Guess I’m just a lucky son of a bitch, huh, Henderson?”

It shouldn’t have been luck; it should have been a guarantee. Steve should have ensured it.

Eddie makes his way upstairs with slow, heavy footsteps. Steve waits until he can hear the water running, then heads to the phone.

He’s used to this routine by now. Robin and Nancy first, as he knows they’ll pick up rather than their parents.

“Oh, thank god,” Robin had said when she answered the phone after Starcourt. “I thought it was a horrible dream.”

“Thank god?” Steve echoed, laughing.

“Yeah,” Robin said, quite seriously. “It was either I dreamed up everything alone, or we saw it all together.”

And Steve, touched beyond words, had called her a dingus instead.

Tonight, their phone call is much quieter.

“I’m home,” Robin says. “I love you.”

Steve’s hand clenches around the phone. “Love you too,” he whispers, and he ignores the warning sting in his eyes, because he doesn’t have time to—he still has so much left to…

“I’m home,” Nancy says. She adds, “Get some sleep, Steve,” in the fatigued tones of someone who will not be taking their own advice.

Eddie comes downstairs sometime during Steve’s phone call with Mr and Mrs Sinclair. He’s quiet; the only sign that alerts Steve to his presence is the faint smell of mint body wash.

When Steve hangs up, he has to take a breath, still clinging to the phone pointlessly.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve breathes out. “Checking in,” he says.

He dials another number.

It began after Starcourt, the Sinclairs having bought the excuse that Steve had been trapped with Erica in a broken down elevator as the ‘fire’ began—technically true, Steve had thought, just in the wrong order.

Their conversation had been all anxious tones, all, You were there, Steve, what exactly…? Should we be worried that…?

And he gets good at it, at bridging the gap between worlds: keeping the full truth from parents, but giving them just enough information, little things that go beyond the surface level cover story, that somehow help put their mind at ease—cultivating the sense that Steve is the witness, the one being honest with them.

Christ, he’s tired.

The call with Max’s mom is hard. She’s still at the hospital, and technically there’s nothing to really worry about (Max’s arm had a clean break), but that doesn’t change how it all felt, how she shook with pained sobs as Steve tucked her into his side.

“She’s sleeping now. She said you were with her,” Susan tells him, voice low. “Steve, I’m—I’m so grateful.”

But I wasn’t, Steve thinks. Not when it mattered.

He doesn’t realise that he’s still holding the phone after the call has ended until Eddie takes it from him and puts it back in the cradle.

“Hey, can I, uh, use the phone? Wanna call my uncle,” Eddie says.

Steve doesn’t mention the fact that Eddie has already spoken with his uncle, that Steve had overheard him fighting tears in the hospital as he called the plant where his uncle was still working: because even the earthquake-like rumble felt all over town as Henry Creel died wasn’t enough of an excuse to warrant clocking out early.

“Pretend I’m s-someone else calling,” Eddie had whispered, his voice breaking. “Wayne, I-I’m okay. Got stitches, but I’m okay. Fuck. I love you.”

And Steve tried not to think about how it could’ve so easily been him making the call, telling Wayne Munson that his nephew will never come home again.

Eddie pauses, hand hovering over the phone. Then he twirls his index finger in a little circle: turn around.

Steve does. Can’t find the energy to smile.

“Shower,” Eddie says, then taps him very gently on the back, once, twice, like he’s saying off you go.

Steve manages to twist his body so his own fresh bandages don’t get wet, carefully tilting the shower head away from them. He methodically washes away the dirt; the heat of the water is welcome, but it also seems to weigh down his limbs with every drop.

When he goes back downstairs, Eddie is on the phone. He keeps repeating vague little mm-hmm sounds, and Steve somehow is sure that he isn’t on the phone to his uncle.

“Yeah,” Eddie says as Steve approaches. “Yeah, he’s here.”

There’s a little side table next to the phone; Eddie reaches for the notepad, scribbles, then turns it round so Steve can see.

Dustin’s mom

And Steve…

He knows he should talk to her. He knows Claudia will no doubt have questions, even if Dustin’s probably already given his own half-baked explanation about how he hurt his leg—“It’s just a sprain,” he’d insisted, even as Steve hoisted him up, took all of his weight.

The right thing to do, surely, is take the phone from Eddie.

But Steve suddenly can’t bring himself to even lift his hand for it. He feels drained, feels vulnerable and exposed after the shower—that along with the grime being lifted from his skin, it’s also left his stupidly fragile, exhausted heart on show.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over his face like he can see it, see everything, and without so much as an awkward pause, he murmurs into the receiver, “He’s tired. Yeah, he’s—he’s okay. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

He hesitates for a moment, a fleeting sheen to his eyes, and then he says, “Thank you. Goodnight, Mrs Henderson.” Another little pause. He smiles, adds, “Goodnight, Claudia,” and hangs up the phone.

“Is she… okay?” Steve asks. “What did she—is Dustin—”

“All good,” Eddie says. “She was just… checking in.”

The checking you were okay goes unsaid, but Steve can still hear it.

It weighs him down like the shower had done. He doesn’t register that he crosses through to the living room, just knows that he’s suddenly sinking down onto the arm of the couch, that Eddie is sitting next to him.

Steve doesn’t consciously decide to speak, the words tumbling out of him like it’s inevitable.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mumbles.

He can practically hear Eddie frantically trying to make sense of what he’s said.

“Well, yeah, no plan’s gonna go perfectly, man, that’d be—but, hey, we fuckin’ made it, we—”

But Steve is shaking his head. “No, I… I thought I’d figured it out, I—”

He doesn’t know how to explain it; it’s too much to…

It’s something too big to put into words.

The fact that, as Nancy relayed each phase of the plan, he had listened closely, only agreed because at least he was in the group that would be closest to the ‘blast zone.’

That he’d hated leaving Lucas, Max and Erica alone, but had tried to reassure himself that at least they weren’t in The Upside Down.

That once Dustin knew where Steve was going, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, that he’d follow him to The Upside Down no matter what.

And, honestly, Steve would’ve preferred Eddie not getting dragged into this bullshit for any longer than he needed to be—that if it was feasible, Steve would’ve just told him to take the RV and run.

But Steve had seen how he was with Dustin, roughhousing in the grass. Knew that where Dustin went, Eddie would follow, too—a shield in his hand.

And Steve also knew something along those lines was true for him and Robin: that if he thought he could get away with it, he would’ve told her to watch over the kids at the Creel House, but knew she’d choose to be with him.

That all he could feel about going into Henry Creel’s lair himself was relief—not because he thought he was an essential part in all of this, but because he just…

He needed to be there. Just in case.

Because there was a look in Nancy’s eyes that terrified him. It said that if she had to, she’d die with Henry Creel, so long as it would all be over, so long as Barb would be avenged.

Out loud, all he can say is, “It… it was too close.”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “No-one got—”

“You’re not listening,” Steve says, and there’s a scream in his throat begging to be released; he doesn’t let it go. “It was too—I almost—almost had to—”

“Steve.”

“S-someone’s gotta call home,” Steve goes on. “And I—fuck, I was so scared I’d h-have to—to tell them that—”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers.

“But I-I would’ve,” Steve says. His voice cracks. “I couldn’t have just—they would’ve got a-answers, I would’ve—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, and he’s got a hand in Steve’s hair suddenly, guiding him to his shoulder. “I know you’d—hey, I’ve got you. I know.”

The first sob, when it starts, hurts—feels like it comes straight from his stomach. Eddie holds him through it, almost like he’s afraid Steve might drift away to some unreachable place.

“I’ve got you,” he keeps saying. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

When it’s over, when Steve gives a final, shuddering breath against Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie murmurs into his hair, “S’too late for any more phone calls, Steve. C’mon. Show me where to sleep?”

It’s not even all that big of a thing, when Steve leads Eddie to his bedroom, lies down on the farthest side of the bed. Leaves deliberate space.

“You don’t have to—there’s a guest room,” Steve says, tongue thick with exhaustion. “Don’t wanna—kinda worried I’ll hit your dressings in my sleep.”

Eddie looks at him from the doorway. “You’ve been patched up too, Steve,” he points out.

Steve shrugs.

Eddie steps into the room. “It’ll be fine,” he says, smiling. “We’ll both be gentle, huh?”

Steve nods through a yawn. When Eddie makes to shut the door, he says, “Don’t, leave it open. Just—just in case the phone… I’ll sleep right through it otherwise.”

Eddie’s still touching the door handle. “D’you trust me?”

Steve’s eyes keep closing against his will. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I trust you.”

Eddie shuts the door so quietly that it barely makes a sound. “Okay. ‘Cause I have, like, freakishly good hearing.” Through his lashes, Steve sees Eddie smirk wryly. “Like a bat.”

Steve thinks he makes a noise of acknowledgement—isn’t quite sure as his eyes have closed.

He feels Eddie lie down next to him, feels the covers being drawn up.

“I’ll hear the phone,” Eddie says. “I’ll answer it, ‘kay? I’ll come wake you up, if I need to.”

A gentle hand on Steve’s forearm.

“Promise,” Eddie says.

Steve breathes in. Out.

“Okay,” he replies, and he falls asleep completely: not needing to stay half-awake, not needing to pick up the phone—not needing to do anything at all.

#in which Steve can both be self sacrificial and still worry about anyone else being self sacrificial 💔#steve harrington fic #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and nancy #steve and robin #steve and the party #eddie and claudia #steve and claudia #steddie

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zahri-melitor · 15 days

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One of the many tragedies of Jack Drake is that not only was he bad at being a parent, but that he had the perfect person to discuss how hard the experience was for him right there and yet the only conversation they ever have about parenting Tim is conducted at gunpoint.

Because look at Jack Drake. As far as he was concerned, he had everything under control until Janet died and his world fell apart.

Tim was a Good Kid™ as a kid. He was well behaved and polite and not a difficult child and that's obvious from the fact that many of his memories of his parents together are of being taken out in public. Jack and Janet had one kid and they clearly wanted that kid to enjoy the same things they did, so they took him with them to restaurants and museums and art galleries and the opera. And he enjoyed it and enjoyed that time with them.

Jack however clearly saw his role as a father and a husband in the very traditional position as the main provider. It was his job to work and bring in the income that supported their lifestyle (his depressive episode after losing the company and their having to move makes it very clear how much of his self-worth was tied up in that role). He had a son, but his time with Tim was pretty clearly about taking Tim out with him on a Saturday afternoon to watch sport, or play tennis with his friends, or go to the monster trucks, or go fishing: being able to spend a few hours with Tim and show him off to his friends and then return home and someone else took over looking after Tim. And in his mind, he clearly thought he was a good parent! He spent time with his son! His son was a credit who was worth showing off! He could take Tim with him when he and Janet went out for the evening, and Tim could be relied upon to behave. He was winning at being a father!

The part Jack never realised, of course, was that like many men in his position, he'd handed the day to day logistics of raising a kid over to his wife (Janet) and to people he paid to do it for him (Tim's boarding school). He wasn't the disciplinarian parent. He was the 'fun' parent, who got to have the good times with his child.

If Jack was ever actually involved in decisions about discipline and consequences of actions, it was probably at the ultimate stage: the 'wait til your father gets home' sort of threat. The nuclear option. He didn't handle the everyday stuff - he probably never SAW the everyday stuff.

So, Jack thinks he's a great parent. He can brag to his friends about how well behaved HIS child is, unlike those little ruffians you see screaming in public or whose parents can't take them anywhere because they're disruptive.

Then his world falls apart. He's injured and disabled and grieving. He's a single dad. And the kid he's got is suddenly not the child he remembers. Tim frequently acts out, lies, runs away and comes home with bruises and notes from school saying they’re worried something is going on. He also starts dating and possibly trying to have sex ‘too young’ (being caught with Ariana sleeping over and the couch situation, Steph being pregnant even if Tim insisted it wasn't his).

Jack Drake has to suddenly step up to be the main parent of a 14 year old who he's probably never had that dynamic with. He doesn't have the years of experience in how Tim reacts to various forms of boundaries and punishments, because he's never been the one who set them or enforced them. He's probably never sat down and talked to Tim about his feelings in his life. And Tim, I repeat, is fourteen years old, possibly one of the most difficult ages for a kid. Everyone's 14 year olds are suddenly more difficult than usual and pushing boundaries.

On top of that, he's got to learn this all on the fly, in circumstances where he basically has no support. "Help, I'm a new single father to a teenager' isn't really a genre of self help book or parenting group that gets a lot of love - most people who are single parents aren't men, and most people looking for advice on dealing with problems with raising their kids are talking about under-5s, because by the time kids are out of the toddler stage most parents have a reasonable idea of what works and what doesn't, have networks set up, and are usually reaching out for a bit of advice or support about a specific situation, not Dealing With It All.

What Jack really needs is a buddy or two who are also single fathers to teenage boys, who have experience navigating this, maybe who also acquired responsibility for their son in his teen years. Wow. I mean that's a big ask, but funnily enough, there's someone who lives right next door who exactly fits that description...

(The tragedy that Bruce and Jack only ever have the one discussion about parenting Tim, the kid they've been effectively co-parenting since Tim was 13 years old, and that that discussion took place with Jack holding a gun on Bruce).

So of course Jack is terrible at being a parent to Tim. He's inexperienced, he doesn't have any support, he doesn't SEEK support outside of marrying Dana (and Dana clearly while lovely is both ineffective and reluctant to interfere in Jack and Tim's relationship). Now, he fails on very specific axes, in ways that are both understandable and also signs that Jack has a bad handle on his temper.

His go-to threat is sending Tim back to boarding school, because: when Tim was at boarding school, Jack didn't have any discipline issues with Tim! It clearly worked!; Tim doesn't want to go back to boarding school, making it a threat to hold over him; again, Jack's seeing a kid who is sneaking around, lying, running away and he's at his wits end - there's a narrative in the circles he lives in that such kids DO need to be taught to behave and sending them to boarding school is a way to do that.

He runs hot and cold on paying attention to Tim because up until Tim was 14 that was...what he did! And it wasn't such an issue then, as he wasn't a single parent. And when he pays attention, he does tend to be focused (laser focused, in fact), in getting Tim out of No Man's Land, of the dramas at school during Cry of the Huntress when Jack's getting outraged over Tim's bruises and getting into fights, when he's arguing with Ariana's uncle over whether Tim and Ariana's relationship was going too far.

It's just that he never developed the day to day, in between level of parenting and boundary setting and discipline. He's got a temper, and he swings between "it'll be fine, Tim's a smart kid, I trust him" laid back permissiveness, and getting mad and going immediately to the nuclear option: "You are going back to boarding school!" and so on.

He doesn't know how to walk away and calm himself down when he's worked up. He's not particularly good at redirecting his aggression. And he gets easily frustrated, because in his mind everything went smoothly for years...until it was all his responsibility.

And the thing is, there are so many ways Jack could have tried harder to be a good parent, that were available to him. But because of his background and the culture he lived in and the demands of storytelling he never reached out for any of them.

(And Bruce was right there! They knew each other socially! Everyone knew Bruce had worked through having two teenage sons on his own! He could have asked for advice, and he even knew Bruce knew Tim, given Bruce had officially fostered Tim while Jack was in a coma and in hospital. If you were putting together a specific support group you'd kick yourself over how perfect this was)

It's just such a part of the tragedy of Jack Drake.

#dc meta #jack drake

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inawickedlittletown · 13 days

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I’m kinda a little obsessed with how we begin at the end of the dinner portion of the date. Buck and Tommy have gone through this whole dinner…they’re on their second pitcher of beer and already have the check. And after all that it’s only when they come to the end that Tommy points out that Buck is a bit tense.

Is it that they’re at the end of dinner and Buck is suddenly aware of the world around them again…because Tommy would have probably mentioned something before right? Is it that Tommy paying has suddenly made Buck aware they are actually on a date? But we can sort of assume that until that point maybe there had been some nervous energy but it had been going well. And now he feels like there are people watching him. It's just so interesting how they decided to write this.

Buck's word salad...his confusion is just so Buck, but Tommy doesn't know him well enough to realize that. It's literally Buck processing and if Eddie hadn't walked in as a literal representation of Buck being perceived, Tommy and Buck probably would have had a productive conversation.

And I'm glad that it didn't all go well. That Tommy got to see that Buck is really still struggling through his discovery of who he is...like yeah he throws that dig at Buck about closets, but also Tommy does understand where Buck is and maybe he's seeing a bit of what Tommy himself went through.

The thing that this does allow is Buck to have some time. Tommy's right, Buck isn't ready. He's freaking out...not about Tommy, but about his very identity. What Buck is, is honest. He's not someone that hides anything from his friends and family. It's hard for him to lie to Eddie and we see that immediately when he goes to talk to Maddie because that's the type of thing that matters to Buck. He's also kinda going crazy thinking about Tommy.

They're handling Buck's story so well. And I love that Tommy cuts their date short without putting any blame on Buck, and that he leaves it to Buck to reach out. His interest is known...he doesn't leave Buck before telling him he's adorable and that he'll see him and we the audience are left waiting for Tommy to come back within the scope of this episode.

And I can't help but think about how if Tommy only allowed himself to be himself after he left the 118, he's only been out about as long as the show has been on and six years going on seven isn't a long time in the scheme of things. It also does this amazing thing to show the contrast between Tommy and Buck because Tommy knew he liked guys long before he acted on it/admitted it. Buck had no clue. Tommy hid it, he lied. Buck can't do that, it's not in him to be dishonest, and it's a true struggle for him.

Buck talking to Eddie about it and coming out to him...it's so beautiful. I love that scene but in the context of Buck and Tommy there's so much in Eddie's support of them and his push for Buck to reach out to Tommy. Eddie has Buck's back no matter what and it's exactly what Buck needed. Not just the support of his best friend, but the truth telling. It's a weight lifted off his shoulders, and not just that but he has advice on how to move forward too.

I would have loved to see Buck trying to figure out what to say to Tommy when he calls him, but what I love is that Tommy is willing to see Buck. There's something so careful about the way that Tommy acts when he arrives at the coffee date. Obviously he's showing up because he's interested in Buck...but he also probably had no idea what was going to happen. He certainly did not expect Buck to ask him to be his date at the wedding. And then Buck places his hand over Tommy's and Tommy puts his hand over Buck's and Buck doesn't care if anyone sees.

I love this show. I love the care being put into this story.

#911 abc #911 spoilers #spoilers #911 meta #evan buckley #tommy kinard #meta #I have so many feelings about this episode #this was supposed to be like tiny text post but it spiraled

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gemini-sensei · 8 months

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Oh Baby! | Jaime Reyes x Chubby!Reader

Fem!Reader ○ Fluff Headcanons

@sensei-venus this deserved its own post 💖✨️ Hope you enjoy it. Also, I could definitely do more of dad!Jaime if anyone wants that.

💙 When Jaime and Reader talk about having kids, there's no rush. No matter what his family may say or tease him with, he wants to be ready for a baby. Given his position as a superhero, he needs to have a plan. Needless to say, he was not ready and none of this was planned.

💙 Naturally, Khaji Da knows about Reader becoming pregnant before even she knows. At first, it keeps the idea to itself, gathering more scans over a few weeks before sharing its findings with Jaime.

💙 As soon as it tells him, he doesn't believe it. He's not ready, so he doesn't want to believe it, but as soon as Khaji starts listing things off, including Reader's changing vitals among other evidence. At this point, it's literally like 4 or 5 weeks into the pregnancy, so Reader has no idea - not even an inkling or feeling - of being pregnant.

💙 Jaime has no idea what to do with this information. Does he tell Reader? Does he wait for her to find out? He's truly at a loss and is not taking any "advice" from Khaji because it's the whole reason this is an issue. However, he ends up slipping up and telling Reader before he can even make up his mind.

💙 If you thought Khaji was protective of its host, it is even more protective of Jaime and Reader's unborn child simply because it knows that Jaime would be devastated if anything happened to them or to Reader. So Khaji is constantly wanting to be near Reader so that it can monitor her and the baby's vitals and well-being. Who needs doctors who went to medical school for several years when you have an alien weapon willing to do all that work for free?

💙 In all seriousness, though, Khaji Da would kill if anything happened to Reader and the baby (I mean, Jaime would too, damn his morals because that's the love of his life, the mother of his child, his whole world, I could go on). No one is touching a single hair on her body. Hell, no one is going to look at her the wrong way. Basically, it's on sight if anything bad happened to them.

💙 Jaime is so awestruck when his baby girl is born. She's so chubby and has the roundest cheeks he's ever seen. He's so in love with her and is hard-pressed to let anyone hold her other than himself and Reader.

💙 His family adores her. When they get to meet her, they are talking to her and telling her how she's so precious to them and how much they love her already. She gets held by everyone at least once, except Milagro who is hesitant to hold her because she's so brand new; she's an 11/10 tía though. She's definitely the kind of aunt that is like "You can tell me anything and I won't tell your parents."

💙 When alone, Jaime cries pure tears of joy because of his baby girl. He loves her so much but fears that somehow he's going to bring danger into her life and Reader's life. He gives his daughter lots of kisses and promises to protect her no matter what.

💙 His family stays with him and Reader for the first week or two at home, offering a helping hand when they can. His mom literally can't get enough of the little one, and she takes on a lot of the work so Reader can rest and recover from the birth.

💙 Jaime loves sitting in a comfy chair with his baby girl on his chest, fast asleep. He will not move because just looks so cute drooling on him.

💙 By the way, this baby has some thick, pretty curls that you know she got from her daddy. She's so pretty and Jaime's camera roll is soon full of nothing but pictures of her and Reader, though it was at one point just Reader. He always has to have some pictures of them both handy because he just loves them so much and they're beautiful.

💙 This is his first baby, but I promise that it won't be his last. He wants at least one more kid, but he sees himself having a big family.

#jaime reyes x chubby reader #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes headcanons #jaime reyes #blue beetle x chubby reader #blue beetle headcanons #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle #blue beetle movie #dc comics x reader #dc comics #gemini sensei #chubby reader #plus size reader

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deunmiu-dessie · 4 days

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(unedited) captain price sfw alphabet, 𝒶⸺𝓏

𝒜 = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?) : with you, being affectionate comes easy to him; wanting to hold you and kiss you, cook for you, and many other things, just to see you happy, comes easily for john. price's love for you knows no bounds; he makes sure to go above and beyond in making sure you feel cherished and appreciated. from surprise date nights to heartfelt letters while he's deployed, to random bouquets when he comes home from work. price never misses an opportunity to show you how much you mean to him.

john's affectionate acts are not only a manifestation of his love, but also a reflection of his deep commitment to your happiness and overall well-being even though he can't be with you all the time. on another note, price's love language would be a mix between acts of service and gift-giving. he tends to send you a lot of things when he's away from home for long periods of time but also builds things for you to make day-to-day life easier for you when he is home. since he's an early riser, he loves to wake you up with breakfast and coffee; truly he just loves to see you happy.

𝐵 = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?) : hm, john is the type of best friend that would stay up through the night to give you advice, no matter what time you'd call him, he'd pick up and would listen to you wholeheartedly. he's also the 'parent' best friend, he's always looking out for you, no matter what. heading to a club? send him the address just in case. going out on a date? send a picture of the person you're with and their license plate. it's just who he is, the man can't help but be worried, especially with the job that he has and because you're not part of his 'world', you see most things through rose-tinted lenses. ( most definitely the two of you met at a bar, hit it off, and exchanged numbers. )

𝒞 = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?) : you guys are probably tired of me saying this, but john is a touchy man, and it's not inherently sexual at all. i like to think it's because he wants to make sure you're real, that you're not something he's conjured up in his head, and that you won't just disappear. now that he has you, the thought of being without you is almost unbearable- in fact, he's not sure how he lived without you in the first place. long story short, john loves cuddling with you and he almost always initiates it first. e.g., resting your legs over his thighs and pulling as much of your body over his lap as possible, and wrapping his arms around you while the two of you watch a movie on the couch. however, when the two of you head for bed, you guys usually find yourselves in the 'pretzel' position more often than not.

𝒟 = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?) : read me!

𝐸 = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) : john would do it face to face and it'd probably appertain to your safety. with the job that price does, being with him is like having a big, red target on your back at all times. but everything about john is sincere, and you can see how much it's tearing him up inside, because this man loves you with every ounce of his being, and the thought of not being able to come home to you, is like a bullet to his heart. however, the choice is solely up to you.

𝐹 = fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quickly would they want to get married?) : price is hesitant at first, not because he doesn't love you or anything like that, but because he doesn't want you to be alone. he's gone for weeks at a time and intermittently months as well. it can be lonely and if it's something that bothers you, he would prefer to wait for the two of you to get married.

𝒢 = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) : treats you as if you'll break, like you'll vanish from his hands as soon as he takes his eyes off of you; it annoys you at times but eventually you realize that john just can't bear the thought of losing you. tf-141 literally gets whiplash when price is on the phone with you compared to how he is with them, soap complains about it often.

𝐻 = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?) : john loves hugging you and he does it as often as you'll allow him to. when he hasn't been home in a while, his first hug consists of wrapping you up tightly in his arms and twirling you around before setting you down and planting a kiss to your lips, and murmuring how much he's missed you. but on a daily occurrence, his hugs are soft and usually done from behind, where he places kisses on your jawline and collarbone. when you're feeling sad, or when you're annoyed and need time to cool off, he'll press you to his chest and cup the back of your head with his hand, the other wrapped around your waist as he gently totters side to side.

𝐼 = i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?) : john, deep down, knew he liked you the moment he saw you standing in the rain looking like a drenched cat. john knew he would spend the rest of his life with you the moment you cursed at him and asked him, "what the hell he was lookin' at." actually, he's waiting on you, giving you time to grow feelings for him. and while you said it first, nearing a year into your relationship, and shyly as well-- john had always known. [ connected with this post! ]

𝒥 = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?) : price is a grown man, he feels too secure in his relationship for all of that. he loves you and you love him, there's not a doubt in his mind for you. you're both equally obsessed with each other. there are times when the two of you go out and some men or women might hit on you, but either you resolve it or he does, it's never that serious for him.

𝒦 = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?) : price kisses you deep and slow, and you swear you feel the love in every single one of john's kisses, like he's pouring it down your throat in hopes of coating your entire being. john prefers your mouth, loves to kiss you until you giggle against his lips; kiss you until your lips are puffy and cute; kiss you until the anger from working later than you usually do is no longer on your mind. but john also kisses you in passing. e.g, while reaching for something in the cabinet above you, he'll press a kiss to your temple. you're brushing your teeth in the morning as he's getting out of the shower? boom, a kiss to your hairline. cooking dinner while he's on his way out to pick up a few items from the grocery store? a kiss to your neck. he loves kissing you and does it any chance he can get. now, john loves it when you kiss the underside of his chin, or the side of his mouth--- turns him into putty, i swear it does.

𝐿 = little ones (how are they around children?) : john is the type to play football with the kids at family gatherings or neighborhood cookouts, rather than drinking beers with the other adults. the type to toss a baseball back and forth with the troubled teenager and listen to his problems while the cooking is still happening. and also let the girls paint his nails (albeit sloppily) when he's having a conversation with someone. (the team won't let him live it down) he's good with kids and teenagers alike.

𝑀 = morning (how are mornings spent with them?) : as lazy and slow as possible. mornings are usually spent, with john waking up before you and preparing breakfast, soft music playing; along with the sound of the early birds news channel. the front door is opened with the screen locked in place to get some fresh morning air, the neighborhood is silent since it's only six in the morning and john sits out on the porch with sam, an english mastiff dog that the two of you had gotten weeks ago. then you wake up like clockwork, thirty minutes after john has left the bed, dragging your feet and finding him on the porch. with bleary eyes and mumbles of a 'good morning' you'll place a kiss to the side of his mouth and take a sip of his coffee before going back inside with sam trailing loyally on your heels. mornings with john are soft and intimate.

𝒩 = night (how are nights spent with them?) : nights with john are spent with a glass of wine shared while the two of you cook dinner. nights with john are filled with laughter and sweet, bitter kisses. nights with john are spent twirling and shimmying to the music playing on the radio. nights with john are spent with the two of you perched on the island, feeding each other and discussing the future. nights with john are spent with him reading to you as you're sat on his lap, curled into his chest. nights with john are spent with calls to the tf-141 team to see if they're still available for tomorrow's cookout with just the five of you. nights with john are spent with him carrying you to bed after you've fallen asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. nights with john are your absolute favorite.

𝒪 = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) : john waits, gives you bits and pieces here and there, lets that sit on you before feeding you more and more; until he's bared himself to you completely.

𝒫 = patience (how easily angered are they?) : john does not anger easily and when he is angry it's never directed at you, always at someone else. john doesn't yell when the two of you argue either, he's calm and collected, and listens to your point before explaining his own. he's not condescending though and he never talks down to you or dismisses your argument, he's mature and the two of you always work whatever it is out before closing it with a kiss.

𝒬 = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) : you guys, john remembers the clothing you were wearing when the two of you first met, even if you were obscured slightly by the rain. even the things you say in passing while you're rambling, he remembers. john focuses immediately when you start talking, partially because he loves the sound of your voice and the other part because he wants you to know that he's listening to you.

𝑅 = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?) : read me!

𝒮 = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?) : oh, very protective. he's always so hesitant about leaving you alone and usually asks if you can stay with a friend or family. while everyone knows everyone in the neighborhood the two of you have settled in, he's still untrusting--- besides price is a different man outside of his domestic life, he had enemies, and people looking to kill him; and they could easily do that by finding you. which is why, just a couple of weeks ago the two of you went out to adopt a dog, an english mastiff the two of you had named sam. he feels a bit more comfortable leaving you home alone now.

𝒯 = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) : most days that are big, john is on a mission somewhere halfway across the world. but he makes sure to call and talk to you as long as he can until he can come home and celebrate with you. thankfully, the two of you are mostly homebodies so anniversaries and things of that nature are spent at home with each other, baking a cake to decorate and eat, cooking each other's favorite meal, and giving gifts. price prides himself on remembering the small details in your relationship and always gives you the best gifts, he usually makes you cry with how thoughtful they are.

𝒰 = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?) : john smokes cigars. it's his bad habit and you're actively trying to get him to stop. the man tries to sneak off sometimes to enjoy one but you always end up finding him and tossing it out. you scold him often and he always gets out of it by kissing you silly. you guys, don't forget to keep an eye on him.

𝒱 = Vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?) : maybe just a bit concerned. he is older than you, after all, there are plenty of men younger than him out there with bodies more fit than his. the man strongly believes you can do better than him, which you always shut down with glares or kisses. you love john as he is and tell him that all the time. everything about him is so manly and he makes you feel so well taken care of. besides, you love the little pudge of his tummy, he got it after getting into a relationship with you after all. you love to feed him and he loves your cooking, the two of you go hand in hand.

𝒲 = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?) : read me!

𝒳 = xtra (a random headcanon for them.) : john crumbles to his knees, his mesmerizing blue eyes welling up with tears, and the air leaving his lungs. his thick eyebrows drawing together, and his trembling hands tenderly find solace against your belly, while his lips form a delicate line. the sound of your gentle laughter instantly captures his attention, causing his eyes to lock onto yours, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips as he blinks away his tears. "you're pregnant?" { excerpt }

𝒴 = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) : being lied to, he'd rather you come clean in anything you do.

𝒵 = zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?) : lmaoo the man snores, it's not too loud and it never wakes you up out of your sleep. but whenever you wake up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, you catch the wheezing snore he makes.

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whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx · 2 months

Text

DIHWYF Incorrect Quotes but it's mild Carmine sisters chaos

Because ✨sisters ✨

Clara, staring at newly adopted Vaggie: Um...want a beer?

Odette: She's like...five!

Clara: I DUNNO, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HER?!

Clara: I'M BREAKING THE WINDOW!

Odette, whispering into her phone: Uh, hi- we locked our baby sister in the car and people are judging us.

Clara, now running around looking for a rock: I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA BREAK IT!

Odette, whirling around: DO NOT BREAK THE WINDOW, YOU'LL GET GLASS ON HER!

Odette: But if you keep making up words, no one will understand you.

Young Vaggie: Clara will. Watch. *tugs on Clara's arm*

Clara: Yeah, squirt?

Vaggie: *complete gibberish*

Clara, immediately playing along: Whoa, are you serious?

Vaggie: *more gibberish*

Clara: I'd never considered that before!

Vaggie: *very serious gibberish*

Clara, patting her head: This changes everything.

Odette, facepalming: You're both crazy.

*Odette, spotting Vaggie trying to sneak out of her bedroom: Oh, not again. Come on, go back to bed before Mamá sees you.

Vaggie: But I don't want to go to bed!

Odette: Too bad, manita.

Vaggie, pouting: Why do I have to go to sleep? Why can't I just stay awake all night?

Odette, sighing and getting up to walk her back bed: Because that's the way the world is.

Vaggie: Well I'm going to make it so that's not how the world is!

Odette, tucking her in: That sounds like a big job. You're gonna need a full night's sleep for that.

Vaggie: Yeah, I will! *triumphantly snuggles in*

Vaggie, ten minutes later: Hey, wait a second-

Vaggie, curled up in front of the fridge: :(

Clara, spotting her: You alright, hermana?

Vaggie, sadly: I just miss Odette**.

Clara, sitting down next to her: Aw, I know.

Vaggie: And the fridge doesn't like me :(

Clara: I...know?

*Odette: Bed. Sleep. Now.

Vaggie, trying to hide behind Clara: But I'm not tired!

Clara: Yeah, 'Dette, she's not tired!

*they're both asleep in Clara's bed in ten minutes later*

Clara, snuggling lil' Vaggie: Big sister's going to drop-kick anyone that touches you 🥰

Odette, without missing a beat: And bigger sister's going to bail big sister out of jail.

Carmilla, cuddling Vaggie after she tripped and fell: I know it's tough, mija. But hey, how many times have you bumped your head or gotten a bruise while you're playing with your sisters?

Vaggie, holding an ice pack on her knee: Um...lots.

Carmilla: Right. And what do they always tell you?

Vaggie: ...don't tell Mamá?

Carmilla, who was fully expecting a different answer: What?!

Clara, who'd walked into the room to check on her little sister: Uh...I'll maybe come back later?

Clara, holding an ice pack to her sister's head: How much do you remember?

Teenage Vaggie, who'd just gotten into her first fight: Just the ambulance ride to the hospital, I think.

Odette: That wasn't an ambulance ride, I drove you.

Vaggie: But I heard sirens?

Clara: That was your girlfriend.

Charlie, clutching the largest teddy bear the hospital sold***: I got nervous!

Charlie, fresh into their relationship: If something happened to Vaggie, I...I couldn't live with myself.

Odette, completely straight faced: You wouldn't have to. Clara and I would kill you.

Vaggie, trying to sneak off with Charlie at a party: Guys, I need your help.

Clara: Oooh, ok. I have an idea.

Odette: Is it a bad idea?

Clara: *darts off in Velvette's direction*

Odette, jumping up to chase after her: CLARA, IS IT A BAD IDEA-****

Vaggie, walking by with a teapot:

Clara: Whatcha doing?

Vaggie: It's for Zestial. I'm planning on making some bad choices tonight and I want him on my side when Mom finds out.

Clara: Oooh, smart. I'll have to remember that.

Odette, not looking up from her laptop: I never realized the forethought that went into raising our mother's blood pressure.

BONUS:

Carmilla, trying to calm Lucifer down after he came to her for advice about Charlie: Look, I've raised three fully functional, well adjusted children and-

Luci, sniffling: You have three kids I don't know about?

Carmilla: ...

BECAUSE I LOVE THEM ALL

Here's a link to the AU!

*these exchanges definitely took place less than an hour apart.

**Odette is fine, she's just on a business trip and her sisters are sad.

***That bear is not for Vaggie. She has a different one for Vaggie. The older Carmines got her that so she would calm the fuck down

****is this a hint as to how Charlie and Vaggie meet? 🤫

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cmoundiamante · 1 month

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Can I request for a jay smut? What I’m thinking is that he is an idol/singer/rockstar who is on tour. He has been on tour for almost a year so he has been missing the touch of his gf. One night his sexual frustration got to him so he asked his manager/staff to hire an escort to release his sexual frustrations. ofc theres cheating in this and I trust your skills on how you handle this. thanksssss! love your works btw!!!

CANCIÓN ANIMAL ✦ P.JS

pairing rockstar!jay x afab!reader

genre smut. one shot. soloist!au.

warnings CHEATING. mean!jay (only with his gf lolololol), jake as manager, masturbating, pet names (good boy, baby boy, ), striptease, handjob, oral (f. receiving), cowgirl, protected sex (take this as a recomendation)

a/n OK MY FIRST REQ EVER, thank u so so so so fucking much for trusting me and giving me an idea w this req anon, hope u like it bae ❤️ btw so sorry for take so long with this, but there u go

wc idk i spent like 15 minutes reading it lmao

London, United Kingdom. March 8th, 2023.

baby💙: i miss u so much daddy);

baby💙: wish u were here helping me

baby💙: [photo]

He had come down from the stage no more than ten minutes ago, and his girlfriend hadn't wasted a second taking advantage of the fact that her boyfriend had finished his concert to send him a message. Jay was in difficult days, in which among the symptoms he had was completely ignoring his girlfriend, who lately didn’t stop teasing him for no reason.

Jay recognized that he was pussyblocking himself, his cabal of jerking him off after all his concerts was not enough because it didn’t satisfy him at all, as a consequence of sinning of thought. The first few days he was hot, his dick soon rising as soon as he opened the photo. Now, it was boring, it was common, the excitement had been lost, he needed his girlfriend here holding his cock in her hands but he knew it wasn't going to be possible because she was on the other side of the continent.

Jay grabbed his phone and logged into the messaging app, completely ignoring his girlfriend's text messages, contacting his manager.

jay: hey dude

jay: do u think u could get me some slut rn?

His manager knew his current situation as he was not only part of his staff, but also a good friend, who accompanied him on his world tour. It didn't take long for his message to be read, but Jake didn't reply to it.

He tossed his phone onto the couch in the dressing room, starting to get rid of his T-shirt, which by the way, was all sweaty from the rubbing of his skin against the electric guitar. A knock on the door abounded the silence of that great dressing room, "Come in." Jay shouted, knowing that the one waiting outside was Jake.

Jake opened the door while holding his phone, mentally repeating the text message Jay had sent. "What do you mean by 'could you get me some slut'?" the Australian's gaze never wandered to his friend. "You're a womanizer, I assumed you'd have contacts."

"I don't mean that man, what about your girlfriend?" He wasn't in a moment to start reflecting on his actions, he was thinking with his cock, not with his head. "I don't care about her now, i need to get my dick wet." Jay took off his belt, everything he was taking off was left on the big red couch where he was thinking about what he was going to do with his heat. Jake looked at him disappointed, but he couldn't refuse a request knowing that Jay, as a friend, was the most precious thing he could have. "I'll get one for you," he said quietly. "I just want to give you some advice from a friend... I don't want you to do something you'll regret later."

Jay tried not to think about Jake's last words before he felt guilty, so he just looked at him and nodded his head. "Gonna take a shower." Jake left the dressing room and Jay was left completely alone again.

His pants fell along with his boxers on the bathroom floor, which was beginning to fill with steam from the boiling water gushing out of the shower. Jay dove inside, throwing his head back and enjoying the water crashing down on him. First, he picked up the soap and began rubbing it into parts of his body, removing the smell and sweat that had get him for the past two hours.

Unconsciously, Jay began to scrub his lower part, still seeing the ceiling through the steam as he slowly frequented the movement. His hand went up and down slowly, the soap simulating lubricant. Every second that passed was an excuse to increase the speed.

His breathing was agitated, he didn't let out a sigh, he could still breathe properly. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, he began to fantasize that it was someone else's hand, something that made him get aroused and the limb that was in his legs rose even higher and higher. That's how he couldn't take it anymore and grabbed it completely, pulled it gently. He let out his first breath, and his legs faltered even more as he quickened.

As soon as his arousal begins to emanate, he increases his movements, letting out a prolonged moan from his nervous lips, arching his back slightly from how quickly he was stimulating. The stimulation was pushing him to the brink of insanity. A serie of masculine gasps and moans comes out of his mouth as he falls deeper into his own needs. As much as he wanted to use his girlfriend's hands for his own pleasure, to feel her warm and soft skin, to be completely seduced by the perfume he bought for her, he knew he couldn't for now.

His gasps choke in their airways as the moans struggle to get out, leaving a light layer of sticky sweat that is washed away by the water droplets falling from the shower.

A particularly loud moan escapes from his parted lips, while his thumb thoughtlessly circled his glans, which was on the verge of exploding. Soon, he began to contort as his orgasm grew larger and larger. Both hands tense, pressing against his hard cock that was about to expel it all. Just as he peaked once more, he lets out a long, lingering moan, unable to keep his eyes open during your overwhelming trembling.

"Fuck." he finally exclaimed. The drops of cum he had expelled were being carried away by the water. His girlfriend hadn't been the one he'd imagined during that self-love section, so much frustration was he dealing with that he wasn't even looking for a reason to do it.

But Jay may worry about complications later on. For now, this is what I needed after a long day.

The same towel he used to dry his body, he wrapped around his waist so he had something to cover himself with, a few unruly drops falling from his wet hair. His cell phone vibrated again, showing another message from his girlfriend.

babe💙: are u there? 😕

He doesn't know how he did it but he inadvertently opened the chat, being forced to have to answer her. He had seen that the previous messages had been deleted, including the photo. He bit his lip at his clumsiness, "Shit, shit, shit."

jay: sorry baby girl, i was taking a shower

And he was, he wasn’t lying at all.

Someone knocked on the door at the same time that Jay's phone turned back on showing another message, which he clearly ignored again, not even having paid attention to what it said. He adjusted his towel to his hips and went straight to open the dressing room door, only to be met by a totally unknown female figure.

"Jay, am I right?" your voice was soft but at the same time you sounded confident, that was Jay's first impression. In mere seconds he managed to make a complete scan of you. Quite tall for the average woman's height, your hair was kinda long, you had rather deep eyes and very kissable lips. You did the same, but instead of looking at his face, you looked at his toned body, which was only covered by a simple towel that left a lot to be desired, as it didn't even cover enough to cover Jay's bulge. He trusted Jake completely, and he brought paradise to his dressing room.

"Don't you know who I am?" Jay was one of the most famous guitarists in his region, being one of the few to do a world tour. He was surprised to see that the woman in front of him made a confused gesture. "I know you're a celebrity, but I have no idea what you're doing."

Ouch. His ego disappeared in just a few words.

"Wanna come in?" took him a while to find the words so he wouldn't remain silent, being consumed by his own pride. You held your stuff while appreciating the dressing room this guy had. For a rockstar you don't know, he really had a life of luxury, and you could tell by the sheer space the whole place took up.

On the other hand, you were born in a family that was economically deprived, trying to help your family since you were a child, either selling candys, gummys, with your collaboration you tried to bring some income to your home. You didn't do any schooling when you finished high school, you just kept looking for a job. You learned about the sexual world after adulthood, having access to comprehensive sex education in your twenties. Even though you worked from this, you didn't mess with just anyone, you were very picky with the men who asked for your service, however, none of the men you slept with offered you even a similar amount of what Jay's manager had offered you, what you thought you could live with for about six months.

Jay's hands slipped onto your waist, automatically snatching you out of your thoughts. Jay's lips were very close to your ear, just enough to make you shudder. Since he was very close to you, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye and had a chance to appreciate him better. He was a pretty attractive guy. Slanted eyes, well-marked jaw, pompous lips, he had deep eyes just like you, both feeling how you guys intimidated the other but were proud enough to give up and lower your gaze. His mischievous hands that roamed your body didn't even try to hide his intentions.

You let out a chuckle. "Are you already horny, boy?" you began, removing your coat, dropping it onto the expensive tiles on the floor. The London winters were harsh, so you had to go to your meetings with plenty of clothes on so you wouldn't freeze and end up like an ice cube. Jay's body, which was still pressing behind you, began to push you away, guiding you towards the couch he was sitting on before. "I was horny since before you came here."

While you gave him permission to put his hands on your body, you continued to be fascinated by the spaces of that place. "We're going to have a good time in such a place." You felt his soft lips on your jaw and as his right hand fought against the fabrics that still covered your body, so you decided to give him a hand.

You threw him on the couch in front of you, giving him the freedom to watch you undress while he just enjoyed himself. Your sweater was the second piece of clothing that hit the ground, after your coat. All you were left with was a white tank top and low rise jeans. Through your top you could see the lingerie you were wearing, and Jay didn't hesitate for two seconds to unveil its color. "Burgundy red." His comment encouraged you to take off your shirt, giving him a clearer view of what that bra looked like on you. The fabric was very visible to your boobs, who didn't even stay relieved for a while, your nipples hardened by the cool breeze in the air. "It match perfectly with you."

Men were disgusting to you, they were disrespectful, the disgust you felt when they touched you was an inexplicable feeling, but you needed the money, and that was all you cared about. A compliment like the one Jay told you could make you stop feeling like an object just for a few minutes. You were wishing that your face would remain neutral to the comment he made, but you swore that you were smiling and that at any moment your face could end up the same color as your lingerie set.

If you were wondering what happened to your jeans? Don't worry, Jay already got rid of it.

As you sat on his lap he met your face, he couldn't resist merging his lips with yours. He was soft, he was calm, but you could feel his sexual desperation in the way his lips moved up to yours. You had forgotten the fact that he was half-naked underneath you, the towel just being an impediment to see him as god brought him into the world.

"You can't hide it anymore." talking about his noticeable erection, which you purposely started putting pressure on him. He was whining underneath you, complaining about what you were doing. He needed so much pleasure that he felt pain for how he teased him. "What do you need, baby boy?"

"Make me feel good." His voice trembled. "Where are your manners?" Jay sighed. "Can you make me feel good, pretty please?" Those were the words you needed to start taking action.

You got off his lap and got down on your knees. You took out the towel that covered him and you appreciated it, seeing a few drops of precum glistening on the tip. You spat out the palm of your hand to lubricate it and grabbed it to start choking it. Jay threw his head back in the sensation, biting his lips as he felt your thumb touch him tip. Seeing his jaw you could see that he still had a few drops of water falling out.

It was weird to see a man like him without sexual attention, but it made your mouth water just thinking about what he would look like underneath you.

Your hand continued to work on his hard dick, up and down, making touch with the veins that throbbed on your palm. Your other hand grabbed his balls and squeezed them gently. Jay let a faint moan come from his lips, while his cheeks turned pink from the heat rising to his face.

"Keep doin-fuck." he groaned. Your hand lubricated itself with the liquids that Jay was releaseing, your saliva no longer being necessary. Jay's hips were swaying up and down wanting to be fucked by your hand, but you stopped him. "Stay still," you demanded. He listened to you, but whispered nonsense as you increased the speed of your movements.

He started squirming on the couch so you sensed he was about to cum.

Your hands were covered by his seed, although there were also debris on his abdomen. You stood up from the floor and sat down next to him, watching your hand being covered by his liquids. "Wanna taste yourself?" your hands moved to Jay's lips, who was still catching his breath after the wonders you did with your hand. He looked high, his eyes were almost closed, and his head kept spinning. This is what you caused him.

Jay's lips made an effort to reach your hand, however you made it easy for him to do his job and it was you who came closer. Two of your fingers went into his oral cavity, being squeezed and drooled by Jay. The sensation was much like how your fingers felt inside you. "Good boy."

"Can I taste you now?" was his sudden question, which is why you were slow to answer or even react. "What?" "I don't want you to leave without having a good time." You stared at him for a while. Would a man really care about your own pleasure? "If you want, I can pay you more. Twenty thousand? Thirty thousand?"

"No, no, please. That's a lot." You really felt lucky to have ended up in a place like this, but what he was offering you way too much for you and what you used to receive. "You fucking deserve it." the words came out of his mouth so easily. "C'mon, for fifty thousand, let me suck you off." It was to be expected that every time you rejected the numbers went up, so you just accepted, nodding your head.

He laid his body on the couch, then looked at you, who were still thinking about whether to do this or not. Clearly your subconscious knew the answer because it seemed like Jay might be an expert on sex, but the moment you thought about money… Well, you don’t mind anymore, not when you were on top of Jay's mouth, knocking him out of air beneath you.

It should be noted that Jay had a very low body temperature, making that when the tip of his nose rubs against your clitoris you feel chills running down your spine. One of your hands was holding his wet hair and the other was scratching the fabric of the couch, holding the pleasure tightly. Unconsciously, your hips were swaying over Jay's mouth, which was growling, generating vibrations on your sensitive vulva.

His tongue worked so well underneath you, you could tell that he had done this several times to make you so fucking good. Your grip caused his hair to slip from the force you were making, plus your knuckles were white. Your moans came out of your mouth and went straight to your clit, which was getting harder and harder, and Jay's tongue just didn't help at all to contain your quick orgasm.

"Fuck yeah." you made jerky sounds, that even if you didn't see it, Jay's cock was very receptive, taking those sounds as an invitation to get hard again, and this time needing to be inside you. His nose had taken on warmth, the cold you felt was replaced by the pressure in your core. One, two, three more moves, and you had Jay underneath you being totally covered by your juices.

When you saw him, you smiled at how his face shone under the lights. He did the same, showing off his sharp jaw and perfect teeth. This man was sexy as fuck.

You turned your head to see his dick again, which was erect again, crying out to be choked by your gummy walls. Without exchanging a word with Jay, your silence made him understand absolutely everything. He sat back down, you again positioned yourself on top of his lap, causing your private parts to rub against each other. Your folds hugged him perfectly as your lips danced on Jay's, exchanging saliva and raising the temperature in both bodies.

With your hand running around Jay's neck, you maneuvered to pull a condom out of your jeans pocket. Still kissing him, you opened it with your hands praying that it wouldn't break, and little by little you went it down his torso, giving light squeezes causing Jay to startle.

You lined up your entrance with his tip and slowly lowered yourself on it, being able to torment him, as only half his length was inside you. You lied if you said you weren't enjoying watching him suffer, but on the other hand you were also desperate because you needed this too. "Don't tease." his words were firm, like giving you a command.

The splashes coming from your entrance abounded throughout the room as you buried his huge dick in your tight little pussy. Jay rested both arms on the back of the couch, leaving all the work up to you. You started jumping up and down on it. You had him panting for a long time, to hear more clearly you stuck to him, bringing your torso closer, leaving your ear very close to his mouth, which did not shut up for a second. The noises Jay made were the turbo you needed to keep bouncing on him.

You'd let it go and put it back in, that's the rhythm you'd taken. You usually didn't moan in your meetings, you just did dirty talk, but the place and with the man you were… It’s like you needed to letting him know how good he made you feel. "You're so big- fuck." One of Jay's hands met your ass by surprise, causing you to moan louder than the ones you were emitting. The help he gave you helped your jumps go more smoothly.

Your hair was captured, pulling back your head to expose your neck, which Jay began to mark impatiently to feel you again. Between the thrusts you felt beneath you and his tongue raging on the sensitive skin of your neck, your g-spot tightened from the heat and how his tip collided with it.

You moved your hips looking to finally fill yourself completely with his cum. The sweat, the pornographic sounds, your skins clashing while sticky from the scene you were both starring in.

"Jay..." your moan sounded so sexy coming out from your lips that Jay let go of your neck with a growl. "Tell me, baby girl." "I'm cuming." A smirk drew over his face as he heard you say that. "I'm gonna cum so hard."

The way you jumped on Jay were driving him crazy. Even though you were separated by a condom, he could feel your wetness by how you squeezed him. So deliciously, it nearly kill him.

You felt the condom fill with his fluids, at the same time your crotch was shaking being covered by your juices. You tried to get his dick out of you, but the condom stayed inside you, dangling with Jay's liquids dripping out. You laughed and pulled it out, throwing it on the floor of the room.

“Guess this pussy needs more from me," he said, referring to how the condom got stuck inside you. You laughed again, getting off his lap and pulling yourself next to him, right next to where his phone was. "Sixty thousand for a second round."

"Stop offering mon-" Your voice was interrupted by the vibration of his cell phone. You looked back, intending to hand him the phone, and when you saw the name of the contact who was calling him, you couldn't help but be shocked. "I hope 'Baby' never finds out about this." You handed him your phone with a smirk. "None of your business."

Tonight was hot, it was different, it was pleasurable, but it was something you couldn't brag about.

This is between Jay, God and you.

#cmoundiamante’s reqs #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #kpop #enhypen recs #enhypen jay #jay #jay park #jay park enhypen #jay enhypen #jay smut #jay park smut #jay x reader #jay park x reader

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