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jordyn14 · 29 days

Note

would you write a story where Y/n and Joe are arguing because Joe is making some bad friends and she doesn't want to be around because she's pregnant or something... But in the end everything ends well

You’re going down a dark path | Joe Burrow

Pairing: Joe burrow x fem first person

Words: 4113

Notes: I kind of changed this around slightly to make this a little more emotional and heartfelt, but I tried to stay on track with the request. I hope you enjoy! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

I got into my car after working out for the millionth time this week. Normally I would go once, maybe twice a week depending on how my pregnant body felt, but lately, I’ve been going every single day. Why have I been going every single day? To get out of my house. Ever since Joe’s season ending wrist injury, he’s been hanging out with the wrong people. I get why he’s needed an outlet and a group of friends that can take his mind off of it. I do. I get that the injury took a toll on him physically and especially mentally, but right now, I can’t stand to be anywhere his friends are, and they’ve been coming over the house so often, even just to pick Joe up and take him somewhere.

Most of the time they come home drunk and high, and I don’t need nor want that, especially since Joe and I are expecting a baby in a few months. When I told Joe that I was glad that his new friends were helping him take his mind off of it all, I meant it because I thought it would be good for him in the long run, but I was very, very wrong. I found that out when they first got in trouble with the law for the first time. Joe swore it would be the last time, but then it happened again. The last thing I wanted was for Joe to end up in jail or suspended for a few games.

While I headed home, I was hopeful that his friends wouldn’t be over the house and that I would get to spend some quality time with Joe, because right now, that’s all I wanted. This first pregnancy is currently kicking my butt and all I want to do is be with my husband since he’s been in Arizona with his friends this past weekend, which means I haven’t seen him in a few days.

As I merged onto the freeway, I got a call from Joe. With a smile, I grabbed my phone so the music could still play and excitedly answered it. “Hey Joey, I should be home soon. Did you just get home?” I asked him with a big smile on my face. “Hey baby. I can’t wait to see you, it feels like it’s been forever.” Joe said. Hmm, maybe because it has been forever. For the last two weekends he’s been in another state. “We just got home and immediately jumped into the pool. Granted, it’s a lot colder here than in Arizona so we’re kinda cold.” Joe chuckled. We? You’ve got to be kidding me. I pulled the phone away from my ear and started laughing a little bit, unable to hide how annoyed I was. “They’re all at the house? Haven’t you spend enough time with them?” I asked Joe.

Even though my voice was filled with annoyance, he still was oblivious to just how much I hated them. “Probably, but they wanted to swim some more, so I invited them over.” Joe said. In the background, I could hear beer cans getting crushed and shook my head. “Are you drinking beer already? It’s 11am.” I asked Joe. In the background, I not only could hear beer cans being crush, but I also could hear a lot of commotion and water splashing.

“I’m not, but the guys are. They’re fucking hilarious.” Joe said and laughed at something one of them did on the other end of the phone. I rolled my eyes and said, “I’m about to get off of the freeway, I’ll be home in like 5 minutes.” I said and hung up before he could say anything else. More than anything, I wanted to come home to my husband without them being there. I wanted Joe to wrap me in his arms like he does after a long game or a long weekend away from me and hear him repeat the words ‘I love you,’ over and over again as he kisses me. I just wanted some alone time, and on top of that, I wanted to know my husband was being safe.

I pulled into our driveway and pulled into the only spot that was left since there were 3 other cars that weren’t supposed to be here. As soon as I opened the door, I could hear them in the backyard yelling and having what they thought was a great time. This may seem like fun for some people, hell, it would’ve been fun to me…about 4 years ago. But with where we are at in our lives, and with the image that Joe has to uphold at all times, he can’t be doing this. He can’t be going out with people that are constantly doing things that can trash his name, because when he comes to terms with just how lousy he’s been acting, it may be too late.

When I walked inside, I headed for the back door and tried to put on my best fake smile. The last thing I wanted was to get into a fight right here and now about it, but that day would definitely come. It had to come. I just didn’t know when. Putting my hand on the door handle, I hesitated for a few seconds before slowly opening it up. Right when Joe heard the door open from in the deep end of the pool, he immediately jumped out and began to run over to me. “Finally! I missed you both!” Joe yelled as he ran, looking to me and to my stomach where his little boy was.

When he reached me, he picked me up and spun me around a little bit. I couldn’t contain the giggles as I clung onto his wet and muscular body. “We missed you too, Joey.” I said with a laugh as he set me down on the ground. Once on the ground, I couldn’t help but stare at him, in awe of how he looked. Not only was he only in swim trunks which revealed the most perfect amount of leg, ab, back, and arm muscles, but his hair looked amazing. Like most off seasons, he was growing out his hair, so his wet curls were hanging on his forehead and the hair in the back was wild from getting wet. Instinctively, I reached up and ran my fingers through his curls and then let my hand run down his arm.

All joe did was look me up and down before he cupped the side of my face with one hand and the other was wrapped around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as our lips connected and arched my back with the faintest moan as he kissed me hard. From the noise I made, Joe smiled into the kiss before we were interrupted by all three of the guys screaming, “get a room!” The both of us pulled away from each other and laughed at the guys reaction. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought. “Oh shut up.” I laughed while rolling my eyes at them.

Two out of the three of them got out of the pool and started to dry off slightly before plopping themselves down into the chairs my best friend and I tan in during the summer. “How was your workout? Let’s see those muscles.” Joe joked and gave my arm a little squeeze. “Well, it was going good until the very end when our little crazy pants in here decided it would be a good idea to keep jabbing me in the rib cage.” I said and looked down at my stomach. Joe chuckled and put both of his hands on my stomach so he could try and feel our little boy kick. I studied Joes face, waiting for him to feel the kicks, and after a few seconds, his face lit up and he looked at me with the most amazing smile. “Oh wow, he’s kicking. Our little man is so strong,” Joe said, looking at me and then my stomach in awe, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

I smiled up at Joe and let him feel his son kick in my stomach for a little while longer. Ever since Joe felt him kick for the first time, he’s been obsessed with feeling him kick. Before he leaves to go anywhere, or even go to sleep, he wants to feel his little boy kick first and talk to him so he knows what his voice sounds like. It’s adorable watching Joe transform into a dad, and I can’t wait until the day comes when he can hold his baby boy for the first time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of Joe’s friends lighting a joint when I specifically told all of them not to a million times. Edibles was one thing, but I really did not want the yard and our clothes smelling like weed. It’s not like I mind them getting high, especially Joe since I know it helps him calm down, but they go completely overboard with it. Almost every time I see them they are faded and despite me telling them not do, the house still smells like weed when I come home sometimes. It’s just gotten out of hand.

Although I was annoyed and wanted nothing more than to never see them again, I tried to shake it off and act like everything was fine for Joe’s sake. As long as they didn’t take it inside. “Do you want to sit down? Your back probably hurts.” Joe said. “That sounds amazing. Your son is being a pain today.” I sighed out and was immediately escorted to another chair by Joe who kept his hand on my lower back the whole time. When I sat down, Joe made sure I didn’t need anything else and then sat down in the chair next to me. “So, did Joe tell you what happened this weekend?” One of Joes friends asked who was laying out on one of the sun tanning chairs while smoking a joint. With a skeptical look, I shook my head and then looked at Joe. I swear to god if he did anything illegal. “No, what did you do?” I asked Joe who looked like he wanted to keep it a secret. “Joey B decided to get drunk and pass out right in front of a police officer.” The other friend said who grabbed the other one’s joint and started to smoke it. I looked over at Joe with a glare on my face and tried my best not to get angry until they left. “How fun. At least you didn’t get thrown in jail.” I said with a fake laugh and then continued to glare at his friends.

While two of them were getting high, the other one was floating on a raft in the pool with some sunglasses on, probably already drunk, knowing them. “You seem uptight, take a hit. It’ll be good for you.” The friend said that was currently holding the joint said. I rolled my eyes with a small smile, thinking he was joking, but he obviously wasn’t since his hand stayed outstretched towards me. While I looked at him, thinking it was a joke, he shrugged a little bit. With a scoff, I shook my head and said, “excuse me? You know I’m pregnant, right?” From next to me, Joe put his hand by his mouth and was about to intervene when I glared at him. No way he was letting this one go. I was so sick and tired of them always being around Joe and me, and making Joe do stupid and illegal things.

“What? My baby mama did it when she was pregnant. Granted, that little bitch of a son is practically a 13 year old drug dealer at his school.” He laughed. With another scoff, I stood up and started to quickly walk over to him. All he did was stare up at me with a confused look on his face as I stormed over to him. As soon as I got to him, I snatched the joint right out of his hand and tossed it on the concrete and smashed it into the ground with my shoe. “Get off of my fucking property. All of you.” I said and looked between the both of them who just stared up at me in shock, then over to Joe. “Don’t look at him, look at me, I’m the one talking. And if you didn’t hear me the first time, I said get off of my property!” I raised my voice at them.

This time, they got the hint and stood up from the chairs. “Your wife is fucking crazy dude. She ain’t any fun.” One of them said as they made their way to the gate which led to the front yard. “Don’t talk about her that way.” Joe stood up for me while he stood up from his chair, though I could tell he was angry with me that I kicked them out. After they left for the front yard, I walked over to the in ground pool where the last one was swimming. “It’s time to go!” I yelled at him. Just as I said this, Joe came over and put his hand on my arm to try and stop me, but I yanked my hand away from him. “What are you doing?” Joe asked me. I looked up at him with a glare on my face and he looked down at me like I was the one in the wrong. I looked him up and down with a scoff and then angrily looked back over to his friend that was fast asleep on the raft.

Not wanting to wait for him to wake up, I leaned down and picked up an empty beer can that one of them smashed and threw it at the guy and hit him in the face with it. Right when it hit him, he leaned forwards with a small scream, not expecting to be hit by anything, and fell off of the raft into the cold water. “What the fuck?” He asked and yanked his sunglasses off of his face which how had a broken lens. “It’s time to go.” I said and started to gather up all of the beer cans from the ground that they left. “I’m drunk, what am I supposed to do?” He asked as he started to walk up the stairs. “Do you have a phone?” I asked him while stopping to look at him for a second. After he nodded, I said, “great, then call an Uber or walk home for all I care. Do anything but stay here.” While he got out of the pool, he scoffed at me, so I flipped him off before I bent down and started to pick up some of the beer cans they left on the ground.

While I picked up the beer cans and tried to make the yard look like it did before they came over, Joe just stood there with his hands on his hips, looking at me with a confused and angry look on his face. After I picked up the last can and threw it in the outside trash bin, I turned to look at him. “What was that? Why did you do that?” Joe asked me. I widened my eyes at him and scoffed while shaking my head. “You aren’t serious, right? Tell me you’re joking.” I said. Joe just shrugged, waiting for me to tell him why. “He offered you a joint, all you had to say was no, not freak out like you did and kick them all out.” Joe said, trying his best to give them the benefit of the doubt. That’s all he’s been doing these past few months. Always giving them excuse after excuse so he doesn’t look like a complete dick for hanging around them.

I guess we’re doing this now. “This wasn’t just from him offering me weed, this is from everything. Every single thing that they’ve done that I’ve ignored for your sake.” I said. “Oh so we’re doing this? We’re making this a thing? No way.” Joe said with a scoff and started to storm towards the door. As he passed me, he looked me up and down with a pissed look on his face. “We are so doing this, Joe, because it’s been a thing, for months now. You’re just too blind to see it apparently.” I said and followed after him as he walked inside, trying to get away from me since he didn’t want that confrontation.

Even though I followed Joe inside and wanted to have this conversation with him, he was still in denial, and pretended like I wasn’t even there. I watched as he went into the kitchen and started to rummage around the cupboards. “Excuse me? Now you’re ignoring me?” I asked him and walked over to him. When I said this, he closed the cupboard he was looking inside of and turned around to face me. “I don’t know what you are getting at right now? This hasn’t been a thing!” Joe said, raising his voice slightly. “Yes it has Joe. It’s been a thing since you started hanging around them after your wrist injury!” I said, raising my voice right back at him.

All joe did was scoff and walk away from me. “Come back here right now. We are having this conversation, whether you like it or not.” I said and turned around. Joe stopped right in his tracks and then slowly turned around to face me. I took a step closer to him while saying, “ever since your wrist injury, you have been hanging around them, and it isn’t good. They aren’t good people and it kills me that you are so blind to that.” I said. As soon as I said this, it looked like something clicked in him, like he was finally waking up to something, but he still shook his head, somewhat in denial, or at least that’s what it looked like. “They aren’t bad people just because they don’t like or don’t do the same things you do!” Joe raised his voice at me. “Two out of three of them have been to jail, the other has had multiple DUI’s and something that should’ve been a felony. But yeah, they totally aren’t bad people.” I said with a hint of sarcasm in my voice at the last part.

Joe started to bite on the inside of his cheek as he listened to what I had to say. Then, he looked down at the ground and took a deep breath. “If you don’t want to be around them, I won’t have them over the house anymore.” Was all he said as he continued to look at the ground. “I don’t want to be around them, but I also don’t want them around you.” I said. Joe looked up at me and said quietly, “they help.” My heart ached for him. I know how hard it was for him to have his second season ending injury in just two years. I did. I get that he was exhausting. But this has to stop before it’s too late. “They aren’t good people, Joe. I don’t want to see you turn into them.” I said.

“I would never turn into them and you know that. Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean I have to stop hanging out with them.” Joe said, fighting back. “Really? Because before you started hanging out with them, you never got in trouble for anything. But right after you met them, boom, you started to have run ins with the police.” I said. “They were over stupid things! That doesn��t count!” Joe yelled slightly. “Those things aren’t stupid Joe! You would’ve never, ever done those things a year ago.” I told him. “What? So now you wish I would change and go back to the way I was? Am I not good enough now?” Joe asked me. I took another step towards him and let out a sigh. I had no clue what to do.

“You will always be good enough, Joe, but you’re going down a dark path, and I’m scared that when you do finally wake up and realize the kind of people you’ve been hanging around, it may already be too late.” I said. Joe looked at the ground as he furrowed his brows. “I know that they aren’t the best people, but they really did help.” Joe said. My heart skipped a beat in my chest and I sucked in a breath. This was the first time in months that he’s actually accepted that they were bad people and didn’t make excuses for them. Now all I needed to do was push a little bit more. “I get that your injury was hard on you physically and mentally. I get that maybe I wasn’t enough for you and only they could help, but they aren’t good people Joe, and I’m honestly scared to raise a child around them…and you if you keep going down this path, although it’s not likely, you may end up in jail or suspended from the league.” I said, telling Joe the truth.

Joe looked up at me and shook his head repeatedly. “You were always enough. You helped me when nobody else could. I needed you, and will always need you.” Joe said. “Then why did you lean on them?” I asked, feeling my eyes prick with tears. Joe sighed, his shoulders hanging low. He looked so defeated. All I wanted to do was wrap him in my arms and tell him everything was going to be alright. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t know? Because I don’t know. I don’t know why I started using them as an outlet, I just did, and it felt good because I didn’t have to think about the possibility of never being able to throw a football again. All I know right now is that I love you and our baby with all of my heart and I am so incredibly sorry for everything.” Joe said, looking at me with those bright and tear filled blue eyes. Sucking in my lips slightly, I nodded and closed to distance between us, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You don’t have to be sorry, Joey, I know how hard this has been for you, I just want you to realize that you’re going down a dark path and that you need to turn around before it’s too late.” I said. Joe wrapped his arms around my waist and held me against him tightly while sniffling into my hair. “I promise you, I’m never seeing them again. You and this baby are all I need and I’m sorry if I may have forgotten that with everything that’s been going on.” Joe said. “It’s okay, Joey. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. But please, talk to me if you need to. Don’t keep things bottled up, and don’t fall into the wrong crowd when you need an escape.” I said. “I promise you, baby. I know I’ve been such an asshole lately and haven’t been home that much, but please forgive me if you can, because I am so sorry.” Joe said. “Of course I forgive you. No matter what happens, you’re still my husband and I will always love you. Even if you passed out in front of a cop.” I laughed and pulled away from Joe to look into his eyes.

Joe put both of his hands on the sides of my face and swiped his thumbs under my eyes to catch my tears while chuckling at what I said. “Good, because I would be lost without you.” Joe said. As we looked into each other’s eyes, I couldn’t help but let out a small sob. It took everything in me not to have this conversation with him sooner, but I think it was good that I waited until he could realize for himself just how extensive it was getting. I know the injury was hard on him and that he needed an escape from reality sometimes, but he was finally back. My husband was finally back. “I missed you.” I whispered to him. “I missed me too.” Joe sighed and rested his head on mine.

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non-stop-imagines · 9 months

Text

Handled

From this request (my 🍑 anon, luv u bby 💋)

Word Count: ~5.9k words w/ smau

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Black Actress!Reader (@\badbrownskinn on ig face claim)

Warning: Smut (p in v, slight fingering), breeding kink went hard in this one, slight creampie kink but it's there nonetheless, Michael B. Jordan (I just feel like it needs to be warned that he is in here 😂), mention of pregnancy and babies, mentions of food and small mention of alcohol, Danny and Reader being ride or dies, Twitter environment, lots mention of Daniel touching Yn cause he loves them 😘Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Hehehe, this one was a project, but I am SO GLAD that I have it done. 🍑 anon requested this before I even suggested having anon designations. They have been there though it all😭😘😘. So I really really really hope I did this idea justice. It was so great and I am just so thankful you entrusted this idea with me. I hope you all like it because we all need a little Danny in our life and I think this will satisfy it for a moment. Anyway, have a good weekend, and let's hope Suzuka is going to be a good race. Love you all!!!💖💛💖💛

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

___________

"Now, tell me again why we are doing this?" You sit to tie your tan and white Jordan 1's, Daniel's hands soon replacing yours in the process, finishing the job for you on one foot and then beckoning for the other foot, which you give.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for Faenza to do simulator work before the race the week after, so I made sure I left today fully open, and I continuously reminded you to keep today clear, so we can spend the day together, before I’m gone for 2 weeks straight and you have to stay here." He smiles briefly up at you then finishes tying before standing and, albeit unnecessarily, taking your hand to assist with you standing again. It was something he always did, but you knew why. Since getting married almost 2 years ago, he would grab your left hand to help you up, and you would always feel his thumb run over the ring on your finger, the sap.

"Aw, you mush. You're so freaking cute, you know that?" You purposefully use your left hand to squeeze his cheeks. You loved the sight before you, manicured hands and shiny wedding ring wrapped around the scruffy, goofily smiling face of your husband, surprised his pupils weren't in the shape of hearts with how he was looking at you. You were going to bring his face in for a kiss, but instead his arms reach behind you to grip your ass pulling you in for a kiss, your arm trapped between you two and hand still on his face. A squeeze from Daniel's hand ended the kiss, you pulling away shocked from the sensation.

"Boy, you always have your hands on my butt." You swat at him so he could let you go and you could go and grab a few more items before you left.

"Because, we're married now. That's our butt." He smacks it as you walk by and then head to the kitchen to prepare your guys' matching water bottles for the day.

"When you say all day, you mean all day. You only fill our waters when we won't be home for hours." You take your cup and take a sip from your straw as you walk out the door, which Daniel opened for you and straggled behind to lock before jogging to open the car door for you.

"Need to stay hydrated. We're also getting coffee, and you know it makes you feel anxious unless you drink water as well." He makes sure you're in the car before closing the door and jogging to his side and climbing in. At first he doesn't start the car. He just looks at you as you file through your purse to make sure you had everything, a soft, dazed look in his eyes and a matching grin on his lips, but when you look at him it was like a switch flipped on behind his eyes, brightening both them and his smile. "Let's go have some fun."

______

Daniel makes quick work of rattling of yours and his coffee orders to the starstruck barista. He was standing behind you, head on your shoulder and hands wrapped around yours as his arms circled around your waist to rest on your stomach.

"Okay, and-um- w-will that be all for you two?" The barista's eyes were as large as golf balls and her hands were shaking as she repeated the order and gave the total. "Um, I love you two, by the way. I literally cried when I saw your wedding photos." Her voice was only an anxious whisper when she spoke, handing Daniel's card back to him.

"They make him cry, too." You point your thumb back at your husband, and chuckle as you stuffed your phone back in your purse after quickly typing something out to your stylist.

"I can't help that my wife is the most gorgeous woman alive and I am so lucky to have been the one that you decided to marry." Daniel basically says this all in one breath as he makes quick work of putting his card back in his wallet so he could wrap his arms around you again, thumb instinctively and sweetly caresses your stomach.

“Your wedding dress was really pretty, and I just love you guys so much. I’m sorry, can I just get a picture of you two, I don’t even have to be in it. You guys are just so cute…” The barista began to shakily reach around for her phone and once she did grab it, you held out your hand.

“Give me this phone, you are going to be in this picture.” You three, and any other employee around, huddled into the selfie and after loads of thank yous from you, Daniel, and nearly anyone else in the coffee shop, you both were back in the car and on your way to the next destination.

“So, what next?” You take a sip of your drink and place it back in the up holder before reaching over to mess with the curls on your husband’s head.

“Well, we have reservations at that brunch place that you have been wanting to try but we have never been not busy and in the same place to have time to do so. And then after that, I want to take you shopping and then I was thinking that we could try and go see a movie with anyone noticing us. And, yes, I did make sure to bring stuff we could use as costumes.” He turns his bright smile to you briefly but keeps his eyes on the road. All you could do for a moment was look at your husband with so much adoration it made your chest hurt.

“Sounds like a plan, baby.” You grip his face to squeeze his cheeks and bring his face a bit closer so you could kiss the cheek closest to you. “Love you.”

Daniel comes up to a stop light that has been red for a while now, so knowing that the light was due to turn any moment, he quickly leans over and uses the hand closest to you to turn your head so he could capture your lips in a few sloppy kisses, somehow timing the end with the turn of the light perfectly, and continues to drive down the road while you looked at him shocked and slightly kiss-drunk. “Love you, too.”

yn_onscreen

Liked by gabunion and 182,939 others

yn_onscreen Oh my man I love him so...✨

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danielricciardo Ms. Streisand would be flattered you used her song lyric

>yn_onscreen You knew it was game over when I watched that movie

hallebailey So you're outfit goals 24/7. Noted 📝

>yn_onscreen You and Chloe ain't nothing to sneeze at 🩷💁🏿‍♀️

user1 Love when Mom and Dad go on dates

user2 Yeeesssss FUNNY GIRL IS AMAZING AND YOU ARE TOO!💖

user3 Danny, tell me your secrets. How did you do it

>danielricciardo Let's just say she's a laugher

>user3 so it's confirmed, he saw THAT Tweet comment

__________

"Hon? Honey?" There was a gentle nudging at your shoulder after hearing the soft whispering voice of your husband slowly coaxing you out of your slumber, then a few scratchy kisses to your exposed neck and shoulder, his hand intertwining with yours as he slowly guides his hands to rest on your tummy.

"Hmm? Why are you up? What time is it?" You try to reach up to touch the silk scarf on your head, but realize Daniel had a grasp on your hands. Instead Daniel momentarily releases one of your hands to adjust it and then takes hold again.

"It's 5:00am, baby. Sorry. I just wanted to let you know I was leaving for the airport." You roll over from your side to your back losing the grip Daniel had on your hands in an attempt to reach past him to turn on your lamp light, but he beats you to it, turning on the dim light.

"Where are you going?" Daniel's heart melts at the whiny tone of your question, the answer of which you knew but since it was early and you were just waking up, it slipped your mind.

"Faenza. Simulator work before next week's race." Daniel had knelt by the bed now, caressing your slumbersome face with his index finger.

“Oh yeah. You’re leaving now?” You reach around him again to grab your phone, checking the time for yourself.

“Yeah, in the next few minutes.” Your eyes have been fluttering open and shut since Daniel initially woke you up, but they finally settled on staying closed when you felt Daniel climb into the bed, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and head tucked into his chest, getting deep whiffs of his cologne as his fingers first ran along your sides before reaching around to caress your back. “I made you breakfast. A couple pieces of the avocado toast that you like, with the prosciutto and the hollandaise sauce, and hazelnut coffee with whipped cream and caramel." Daniel’s hand moves from your back and travels down to your butt, bare but covered by the robe you forgot to take off before going to sleep. His touch was still soft and loving despite the sensual location.

“How long have you been up to do all of that?” You mumbled your words into his shirt, letting your hands that were draped around his neck travel up to his hair, scratching the nape of his neck with your manicured nails.

“A few hours. I also had to make sure I had everything packed.” Daniel brings his face to your scarf, breathing the scent in, not wanting to let you go.

“Oh, thank you baby.” You stay cuddled into Daniel, making what he had to do next even harder for him.

“It’s no problem.” He pulls away from you a bit, enough to place a kiss on your forehead. “Okay, love. I have to get going.” It took a minute for Daniel to follow through with his words, cradling your head to his chest and then placing another kiss to your forehead and then your lips before finally getting up from the bed, making you open your eyes after you lose the physical contact with your husband and feel the bed move when he gets off of it.

“Make sure you have me on the phone until you lose service on that plane.” You reach out to Daniel with your left hand, which he swiftly takes and presses his lips to the ring clad finger.

“That means you have to make sure you call me when you get up.” His eyes roam over your body, now minimally covered by the blankets on the bed and your robe, so his eyes were able trace from your cleavage, over the curve of your tummy, to you thighs, his mind wandering to the wonders hiding between them, so he didn't hear your brief answer.

"Danny?" He blinks himself back to the present, eyes cutting back to your face. "I'll make sure to call you. Now go. Love you." Daniel bends down to press one more long kiss to your forehead and then your lips. When he pulls back he hesitates for a moment longer, just watching your tired face look up at him, running his thumb over your ring and then giving you a final kiss on the forehead.

"Love you, too." You watch him leave the bedroom and listen for the door to close. For a moment you just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing yourself back to sleep, but when that doesn't work, you just sigh and make your way out of bed, facetiming Daniel as you walk out of the room.

fallontonight

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fallontonight @/yn_onscreen and @/michaelbjordan join us tonight to talk about their new movie, in theater this December!

tagged yn_onscreen and michaelbjordan

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user4 I will be sat 🧎🏾‍♀️

danielricciardo Is the one in the gold dress single 🥵 asking for a friend (me I'm the friend)

>yn_onscreen Sorry, I'm married to someone who should be WORKING rn

>danielricciardo What, I can't take breaks to flirt with my wife? 🥺

user5 Okay, but why do they look perfect together-you know what, let me shut up 😶‍🌫️

im.angelabassett If they act anything like they did on set, you guys are in for a treat

>yn_onscreen Miss Angela, we weren't that bad

>im.angelabassett Yes y'all were

_________

"So, how would you explain the plot of your movie?" Jimmy asks both you and your costar. You look over and see Michael motion toward you, so you take over and answer.

"Um, well, really it's just poking fun at Rom-Coms, romantic movies, um, but it's pretty obvious that it's mainly, like, Hallmark movies that all have the same plot basically that we really mess with." There was a general excited reaction from the people around you, ooo's and laughs from the crowd, a small chuckle from your costar and an exaggerated accepting nod from Jimmy. "And the best part is that, like many movies that poke fun at other genres, the heroine realizes exactly how ridiculous the whole situation is and simultaneously helps other people realize it while embracing it as well. I really do think that people are going to enjoy it."

"And another nice part of the movie is the fact that it has a primarily black cast. It was a joy leading alongside this lovely lady." Michael gives your cheek a light peck and takes hold of your right hand.

"See, I was going to say that about the cast but it's his favorite part to talk about so I've let him have it." You giggle incessantly, feeling a small squeeze to your right hand.

"Now, Yn, you got married right before filming began, right? It must have been something going from your own love story to filming one." Jimmy fidgets with the papers in front of him as you nod in response.

"Yeah. I guess I went the method acting route for this one. But it did suck to have to leave right after our honeymoon. Daniel and I had each other on FaceTime almost every hour each day. We were only ever not on the phone after receiving multiple warnings and 'or else's." You laugh after your answer but look over at Michael when you feel your hand shift with him.

"Hold on, you're married?" His tongue darts out of his mouth to run along the patch of hair underneath his bottom lip as he waited for your answer.

"I am." Your answer was slightly snarky and confused because you were sure that Michael knew you were married.

"Happily?" That was when you realized he was joking, making everyone, including you, in the studio laugh wildly.

“Yes, happily. You always play too much.” You swat at him and chuckle a couple more times.

"Hold on, dang girl." He is able to successfully guard himself from your swats, also laughing with the crowd before posing another question. "Wait, your husband is a racing driver, right?"

"Yeah, Formula 1. Why?" You reach for your mug of water that sat on the desk to your left.

"They usually have to stay pretty light, and Daniel he's kinda tall and skinny?" You nod, a questioning neutral look on your face because you knew your costar can be a bit out-of-pocket with his statements sometimes. He eyes you up and down, eyes lingering on your butt for a moment longer than anything else. "He's able to handle all that you’re packin’, huh?" Your face doesn't change, in fact it gets more intense, your cocked eyebrow lifting higher and your lips twisting to one side. "Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. She's giving me that mama look, you know what I mean. The 'shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you' look." You couldn't help but crack a smile as everyone giggles at the exchange between you two, like a squabble between siblings.

"Jimmy, do you see what I had to deal with?" It was signaled that this interview segment was nearing an end, so you take it upon yourself to create a bit of a witty end. "I need to get some form of compensation or something for having to deal with Michael for a year and a half…like all of these lovely people in this studio here and everyone watching going to see our new movie, out this December!" You flash a bright award winning smile to the camera while everyone clapped then let Jimmy finish out the segment and take the show to commercial. The only thing going through your mind was that everything went great and you could wait to call your husband.

_____________

You check your phone again for a response to a simple "What are you doing now?" text, something to see if he was free to call again, but still nothing an hour later. And you hadn't heard anything from him since hours before that. Your brain recounts the FaceTime call between you and Daniel the day after your appearance on Jimmy Fallon's show. It was brief because he was headed off somewhere and you had a meeting to get to, but the annoyed "Yeah." followed by an apology and compliment on how you looked was not the answer you expected to asking him if he saw the interview. You just shrug it off though and take a sip from the wine glass you were holding before setting it down on the bathroom counter to start your nightly face routine. You were nearing the end of the routine, looking for your final moisturizer when a pair of arms snaked around your middle and lips surrounded by scratchy facial hair try to kiss your neck, but, reflexively, you throw an elbow back at the perpetrator, turning around and instantly feeling a weird mix of sorry, angry, and confusion when you saw it was your husband.

"Hi." Daniel groans out, recovering from the impact to his abdomen.

"Baby, I'm sorry! But what the actual fuck are you doing here?" You accept his touch on you this time, his hands massaging the exposed flesh of your sides as your hands go up to his face for a kiss.

"Three days is too long." His face was neutral while his eyes moved around your appearance. You were in a skimpy cropped cami and even skimpier gray shorts, all of his favorite parts of you exposed. He began to move a hand back and forth so his thumb would skim your tummy before moving both hands to your butt, pulling you a bit closer to him. You just looked at him, face glistening from the different products you put on it, waiting for him to continue talking. "You looked good on the show the other night. I hope you got to keep that dress."

"I did." You bring your arms to wrap around his neck, his hands now moving all around you butt, massaging, rubbing. If you were a bronze statue, you would have dull areas on both of your ass cheeks. "Baby, there's something going on in that brain of yours. Just tell me."

"We're married, right? I got you that ring on your finger?" You nod to his obscure question, moving your hands up into his hair. "Then why didn't that asshole get the fucking hint?" Daniel squeezes your butt a bit harder now, but quickly releases and runs his thumb over the area in an act to soothe it.

"Danny, he was playing. Yeah, it was stupid, but it was all a joke. Besides, I told him not to do that again anyway, so it should all be fine now." You drape a hand over his shoulder after you speak, trying to scratch his back.

“You know, I want that to be enough, I do, but you know how fucking tired I am of people wondering how I can ‘handle’ you?” You feel yourself being walked out of the bathroom, moving your hands to Daniel’s shoulder’s to keep yourself steady.

“That has never bothered you before.” You raise your arms instinctively when you feel Daniel’s hands trail under your cami to pull it off, letting your unrestrained boobs fall, to which Daniel quickly tosses the shirt to the side to bring his hands to them.

“Well it has never been said on national television by my wife’s coworker.” He quickly shed’s his own shirt and begins to do the same to his pants. “But you’re right. Everything is fine because it's me that comes home to you. Me who gets to see you like this, all exposed.” He approaches you again, one hand moving down the front of your shorts, a singular finger sliding through your folds. “Me who can make you wet by just being here, apparently.” He uses the ample amount of juices you’ve already produced to make easy circles around your clit, causing your knees to buckle slightly and a shocked high pitch whine to bubble from your chest. Just as quick as he inserted his hand into your shorts, it was removed, licking you off of his index finger before going to push his underwear down his legs, and you watched mesmerized as his dick springs free from them, the sight of it hard and bobbing by his thigh sinful. “Are you gonna join me?” His voice knocks you out of your trance and once your brain processes the situation you are quick to remove your shorts, kicking them toward the bathroom.

“So this is why you flew all the way from Italy? To prove that you can ‘handle me’?” You let your hands roam his body, running up his shoulders and then slowly down his torso, sitting on the bed as they ran closer and closer to his pelvis.

“Something like that.” He takes your hands that were about aching to take him in, leading you back into standing. “Ah. Stand up, love. I have a better idea.” He distances himself but still keeps a light hold on your fingers, eyes roaming your naked frame and loving what they see. “Fuck, you’re sexy. This is why I have had to fight off that fuckhead of a co-star of yours.” He brings you into him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing his hands on your hips, caressing and massaging the flesh and allowing his hands to travel where they may.

“You know you wouldn’t have fought anyone-Ah!” You were shocked by the unexpected touch to your pussy, two long fingers briefly dipping into you before being slid up to your clit, lazy circles of various pressures being applied to the bundle of nerves.

“You’re right. You’re mine. They’re just jealous.” The offending appendages move back to dip into you again, making you produce heavenly whimpers as they move in and out, gathering slick as they work until Daniel decides he couldn’t wait any longer to be inside of you, pulling his fingers out and sucking your taste off of them. “Come here.” This was less of a demand and more of a general comment to himself as he pulls you closer to him, both hands on your ass initially, but for a moment one hand leaves its post, grabbing his dick and running the tip along your folds before finally pressing into you, the sensation feeling different and deeper since you were standing. The hand that was still on your ass moves down your thigh to hitch up your knee to Daniel’s waist as the other hand goes back to where it came from, kneading your butt as he begins to thrust into you.

“Oh! Daniel!” You could help but lean forward, wrapping your arms around Daniel’s neck and burying your face into him as well as his pace slowly becomes more brutal and slaps to your ass occurred with every other thrust.

“I find it funny that everyone thinks that I can’t handle this ass when it’s me making you moan like this.” Another smack to your ass makes you jolt and Daniel takes advantage of the movement to adjust you a bit, bringing you higher up on his hips, the change in angle causing you to have to be on your tiptoes. “This is my ass. I married this ass. And these tits. And this tummy. And these thighs. All of it. Mine.” He was rambling, thrusting with nearly every word, erotic screams coming from you in response. He gracelessly reaches for your left hand, bringing the ring clad extremity between you two. "Does he not see who's last name you have? This fucking rock on your finger?" If Daniel hitched his hips anymore, you would be fully off the ground, the mere thought of him being any deeper than he was now making you wetter.

"They know, baby. I'm yours. I’m your wife." You moan out, your left arm making its way back around his neck, a knot in your stomach tightening with each thrust, each brush of his pubic bone on your clit. There was something in your confirmation that you were his and only his that twisted something in his brain. Satisfied an itch, but there was one part of that itch that was hard to reach, and he could only think of one solution to satisfy that final itchy spot.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. Then everyone will know your mine. Only mine” You wanted to respond, but there were a couple problems that stopped you from doing so initially. First, Daniel was fucking you so well that you could only produce groans, moans and whines each time Daniel’s dick is slowly pulled out of you and harshly thrusted back in. Second, you didn't know how you wanted to answer. You two talked about it a lot , but now?

"You'll look so pretty all round and soft from me. You want that? You want to be all round with our baby?" Our baby. That sounded nice.

"Yes, Daniel. I want you to cum in me. You have no idea how much I want to have your baby" Finally words come from your mouth as you lift your head from his neck and press your forehead against his. You both had exhausted smiles on your faces.

“Alright, then.” After these words, it was skillful how swifty he pulled himself out of you and brought his hand down your other leg to lift you onto the bed so that your hips were and the edge of the bed and he was standing between your legs, his fingers on his right hand running through the slick, puffy, folds of your pussy as he admires your face, glistening with a mixture of sweat and skincare products. "I'm gonna stuff you so full. I just want to see the pretty pussy leaking with cum." He starts to fuck you with his fingers when you beckon him to your face, grasping his chin with your left hand, ring sparkling with the sweat on his face.

"All I hear is a lot of talk, Ricciardo." You give a sultry look through your eyelashes to your husband, failing at stifling a wide smile when you feel his fingers being pulled out of you and the head of his dick rubbing along your slit.

"Well then, let me put my money where my mouth is, Ricciardo." He pushes into you slowly, eventually bottoming out, leaning forward to give you a sloppy kiss and then picking up your left hand to press a kiss to your ring, then adjusting his grip so your fingers were intertwined and pressing your hand back on the bed. He pulls back at an equally slow pace but in no time at all he was back to the toe curling pace he had when you were still standing, his unoccupied hand initially roaming your body, feeling up every body part that moved with each thrust, overwhelmed with the sight, but at a certain point he could tell that the sounds you were producing were becoming lazier and more exasperated, so he brought that hand to rub your clit, helping with snapping that knot tightening in your stomach again. "Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you pulse around my cock, milk all the cum from me so you can end up all round and soft with our baby. Make me cum so hard it's leaking out of you and I gotta push it back into my beautiful wife. Have our baby in that pretty tummy of yours." His words were an oddly sweet amount of filth, and were enough to snap that knot and make you cum, obvious from the tightened pulsing grip your walls had on his cock. With his hand still in yours, he places unfocused kisses around your face as you ride your high, but then removed his hand from yours to first adjust your legs that instinctively wrapped around his torso in the midst of your climax and then bring his hands to your hips, shifting the angle upward a bit. "Fuck, that's it. Squeeze my dick, baby. Make me cum inside you."

"Baby… fuck Danny. It's so sensitive. I can't-" Your complaint was stopped by more sloppy kisses that you couldn't help but get into, tongues swirling around and more often than not missing their target, Daniel's hands traveling up from your hips to squeeze your boobs.

"These are gonna be so pretty and swollen…" It was obvious that what you said went in one ear and out the other but you didn't care. Your head was swirling with too many other thoughts, and sometimes lack thereof, to care, still reveling in the pleasurable sensation of his pubic bone dragging over your clit, and now the feeling of Daniel rolling one nipple in between his thumb and index finger. It wasn't long after this that his thrust were more sporadic as you felt warm, long strings of cum coating your walls, filling you up, and afterward he kept his dick in you as he bent down to kiss you again, this time less like lust driven teens and more like the fully and utterly in love married people you two were. He loved you more than you could imagine, and the mere thought of just seeing you carryinh his child, your guys' baby, made him want to smother you and protect you and show how much he loves you that much more. You are his wife. Full stop.

When he stands back up again, much to your dismay as signaled by the small whine you let out when your arms were unlatched from around his neck, pulls out and watches his cum flow out of you, a slow trial trying to make its way down your ass but is partially stopped by his fingers, using the digits to stuff back in you what he can, earning small exhausted mewls from you. You had your eyes closed, trying to recover, so it was a surprise to you when you felt yourself being shifted fully onto the bed and a couple of decorative pillows trapped in the nearest town he could find was placed under your hips and one was placed under your feet, and a larger heavy blanket was draped over your naked frame.

"You really thought this through, huh?" Your eyes follow him as he pulls on his underwear and hops into bed, laying propped on his side as attempts to move the hair that was stuck to your forehead.

"Surprisingly no, but I am not gonna let my good work go to waste." He leans down to kiss you again, simple slightly tongue involved kisses that are finished off with a couple of pecks. "Now, what do we have to do? Let's see, uhh… names-i like Aliyah, you came up with that one a while ago. College fund-gonna need to open one of those. I think the nursery should be in the room down the hall. What do you think?"

You just stare at him for a second, a small smirk on your face while you examine the genuine excitement on his face as he talks about the future before reaching up to bring his face down to kiss you, turning on your side but with your hips still propped. "I think we need to get to sleep and then you need to get back to Faenza before anyone notices that you're gone." You kiss him one more time and then snuggle your head into his chest.

"I like that idea. We'll go with that." He presses his lips to your hair, just breathing in its sent before realization hits and he tries to reach over to your nightstand for your bonnet but you stop him, taking his hand and draping his arm over your waist.

"I'll be fine for one night. That's why I also have the silk pillowcase." He just looks at you for a moment, eyes moving over every corner of your face, and then kicks away the pillows propping you up so he could cuddle as close to you as possible.

"I lub you." His words were muffled now that his lips were pressed to your forehead, right below your hair line, so he could continue to be intoxicated by your scent.

"I love you, too." You wrap your arms around his neck and shift even closer so you are chest-to-chest with him. Eventually weariness finally caught up with the two of you and you both dozed off into a Dreamland, unknowing that both of you ended up dreaming about your happy little family.

_____________

"Baby, I could've gotten it myself." You plop yourself back down onto the couch and lift your somewhat swollen feet onto the coffee table, silently glad your dotting husband got up to refill your water and bowl of cereal your were craving.

"You were just begging me to massage your feet. Shut up and let me take care of you damn it." You giggle and the faux aggression that Daniel responded with, running your hand over your 5 months pregnant belly.

"Aliyah, your daddy's a big ol' meanie sometimes." Your baby girl in your stomach wiggled around at the sound of your voice, but began to practically flip around when she heard Daniel's voice approaching.

"You talking about me? I can just turn my ass around and take your salted Frosted Flakes with me." He turned and dramatically started to walk back, stopping when you grasp his shirt.

"No, no. Okay, I'm sorry. Give me the cereal." He begins to hand you the bowl, only for it to be a ploy for him to lean down for a quick peck.

"You look pretty." His eyes dance over your face as he sets the bowl of cereal down on the side table and slowly runs his hand across your belly to your hips, leaning down for another longer kiss.

"Sans my swollen feet and puffy face." You receive another kiss that's accompanied by a light squeeze to your hips, just at your butt.

"No, even your puffy face and swollen feet. You're the prettiest person I've ever seen." Sure he's been completely and utterly infatuated with you since he first met you, but seeing you pregnant turned it up a notch. He never understood what people meant when they said that pregnant women had a certain glow until he saw you. You were always so radiant even when you didn't think so. And he loved when you talked to your unborn daughter, laughing to yourself after telling her a joke or saying something funny. It made him more than excited to see you once your daughter is born. And your body…as he kissed you over and over, deeper and deeper, his hands roamed over your body that has changed quite a bit over the past few months. He squeezed at your soft thighs and widened hips, ran his fingers over your tummy, fingers blindly finding the developing stretch marks, and brought his hand to your boob, loving how plump they are getting, giving the one he had in his hand a light squeeze.

"Ow, Daniel…" You giggled, intoxicated from the intense lip locking that was just put on pause. He loved how you looked at him too. Like he was the whole world wrapped up in a little bow. You were his wife, you were in love with him. And he loved you more than you could ever know.

"Sorry, I forgot." He went back in to kiss you, getting a small peck in before you abruptly push him away.

"I'm sorry. It's just…your daughter is currently using my bladder as a trampoline. Can you help me to the bathroom?" You poke your bottom lip out and bat your eyelashes.

"Yes, I'll help you." He presses a kiss to your temple and then assists in helping you clamor from the couch, grinning and following you as you waddle to the bathroom.

danielricciardo

Liked by landonorris and 402,848 others

danielricciardo And baby makes 3 ✨Mommy and Daddy love you, Aliyah Jade ♥️

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user6 Can they please televise this fight to the death that's about to happen between the drivers for godfather?

landonorris Congrats you two! Couldn't think of 2 better people to become parents

>yn_onscreen Thank you for being our practice child, Lando 😘

>landonorris It was no problem at all

user7 So...did anyone else count back the months and realize...🫠

>user8 Daniel said "Fuck all of you, watch this"

gabunion So happy for you two 😭🩷

>yn_onscreen Please know that I have you

michaelbjordan Damn y'all I was just jokin 😂♥️

#black reader #formula 1 #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #request #f1 x black!reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo scenario #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x black reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 smau

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aureutr · 1 year

Text

Glass Onion and COVID masks as character shorthand

I wanted to talk real quick about the scene where Benoit and our suspects first meet on the dock. The mask shorthand is not necessarily needed, we’ve been introduced to almost everyone already and can get a good idea of who’s an outright asshole and who might have more layers (ha). But I still appreciated it.

This is what I think about the scene in general, if you have a different interpretation I’d be interested to read it!

Benoit - Patterned cloth mask. This was not uncommon to see in late 2020 and beyond, but this is only May 2020. He (or his husband) likely sewed it himself. This is a conscientious, yet stylish, man who pays attention to what’s happening and adjusts his behavior accordingly.

Lionel - Black cloth mask. This mask does not provide adequate protection for others because he is wearing it over substantial facial hair. He’s a man of science who cares... but perhaps only so long as he does not have to make any personal sacrifices for it. In this case, it would be shaving his beard or finding a masking solution that forms a better seal. In other cases....? :)

Claire - Ill-fitting beige mask. Her nose is hanging out through half of the scene (also is that a tampon hanging out of it when she gets out of the car?). Similar to Lionel, she has values that she supposedly stands for. But she is either ignorant of the full picture or is willing to set those values aside when she thinks she needs to.

Birdie - Golden mesh “mask”. Birdie has already been shown as uncaring about COVID earlier in the film with her party (”it’s okay, they’re in my pod” my ass). Here she flaunts the fact that she is aware of what she should be doing, but is choosing not to. There is also an underlying thread of her general ignorance, as she foregoes anyone’s safety (even her own) for style and glamour.

Peg - Standard surgical mask, perfectly fitted, complete with twisted ear loops. She is meant to be bland and in the background, at least in-universe. Peg is imminently practical, and while she might like finer things (later in the movie she is visibly disappointed to be given a Solo cup when others receive personalized glasses), she is willing to forego them to achieve her goals. There is not much more that can be gleaned from her mask alone.

Duke and Whiskey - No masks at all. Duke is a far-right asshole with no regard for the safety of others, and little regard for his own. Whiskey does as he says, even though she later mentions that she doesn’t want her politics completely defined by his. She might not want that, but her actions speak louder. There is nothing subtle about Duke and little about Whiskey, they are as they appear.

Andi - No mask. But I’m willing to forgive this one in the name of movie magic, given that the shot is meant to be lingering and mysterious. At this point we don’t know anything about this character, but it seems unlikely that she’s in the same camp as Duke. Or, perhaps given that all of the other characters are masked (or not) in meaningful ways, her lack of mask is a subtle misdirection about Ms. Brand.

Under the cut find another quick note about the mysterious “puff gun”.This does contain spoilers for the end of the movie, so tread carefully

We learn at the end of the movie (though it’s not exactly subtle from the get-go) that Miles Bron is an utter moron. Explicitly, anything good he does is not his idea and many things he does on his own are idiot mistakes that others go with because of his power and influence (and money). Whatever this mysterious “you’re good” puff was, I seriously doubt it was a COVID cure of any sort.

My headcanon is that everyone who left “Pieceshite” Island alive dealt tested positive for COVID a few days later.

Also, I called her “Andi” and not “Helen” so as to not spoiler anyone. ;)

EDIT: Several people have pointed out that Lionel actually has a KN95 mask, not a regular cloth one. My bad! Thank you for correcting me. I still think my take otherwise works since his beard breaks the seal.

#glass onion #knives out #movies #rian johnson #daniel craig #benoit blan

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atinylittlepain · 2 months

Text

Part Two

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 5.1k

chapter content info | 18+ little angst, couples counseling, just two tired people trying to figure out the tangle of their relationship together

a/n | part two is here, and i'd just like to say thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part - i know this isnt the usual peepaw fare, so thanks for giving her a chance - and also big thank you to @wannab-urs for beta-ing this bad boy <3

............................................

This is not a failure. She is not failing. They are not failing. Every Thursday at four o’clock she shuts her laptop and locks her office and stops in the bathroom at work, silently repeats these things to herself in her mind while she rubs her fingers at smudged mascara in the bathroom mirror. Like a mantra, though she’s not sure she’s fully bought into it yet. Because the truth is, she has had plenty of conversations with plenty of girlfriends that, really, they shouldn’t have been having about other girlfriends, not in the room with us girlfriends who, did you hear, started going to therapy and, did you hear, started going to therapy with their, oh no, husbands. Yes, she has been the bitch who has made jokes about death knells and a marriage’s last gasp for breath, jokes about the husband having the emotional range of a goldfish, and the wife being so up the husband’s ass she should give him a colonoscopy while she’s at it. She’s not really making jokes like those anymore.

She’s not supposed to be doing what she’s doing this Thursday at four o’clock. When they first went to Vicky (LMFT, for the record) her fundamental decree had been a period of full separation. Sixteen years, she had asked, and they had nodded, and she had said whoa boy, yeah, y’all need to back off each other before we do anything else. If Paula Dean had a penchant for self-help instead of butter, she’d be something like Vicky. And so, with all the care of a drill sergeant delivering commands, or a mechanic running a diagnostic on a fucked-up car, Vicky had told them how this is going to go. An apartment, she said, don’t care which one of you lives in it. Minimal contact between sessions, right, keep it civil, right, this isn’t for forever, right. So Joel got an apartment, and Tommy helped him move all the furniture in the basement with admittedly minimal, but still present, wariness, and for the last four weeks they’ve been doing everything their beloved herr-therapist tells them. She supposes it’s working, although you can’t really do much fighting when you only see the other person for ninety minutes every Thursday so, the results might be confounded, actually.

“Hey there.” Hey there? What the fuck, what the actual fuck. He doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her, ever, maybe not to anyone actually. He feels a little insane, a little itchy under the skin, mouth full of cotton, brain too, because they’re not supposed to be doing this, not really. The first time she’s seen the apartment, or, well, the doorway of the apartment, doesn’t really seem interested in stepping further inside, running her curled palm up and down the strap of her purse and right, not here for that. He shuts the door behind him and then they’re on their way to therapy because it’s four o’clock on Thursday and this is what they do now at four o’clock on Thursday.

“Thanks again. I didn’t think my car would still be in the shop today.”

“Oh of course, you said it’s a transmission leak?”

“Yeah, the bad, expensive kind that’s above my paygrade. Guy said they’re still waiting on a part for it.”

“Well I’m off work tomorrow if you need a ride anywhere.”

“Vicky’ll get pissed.”

“If she finds out. Are you gonna tell on me to Vicky?” It’s a joke, they can joke, right? She laughs a little on the end of her words to make it clear, hey, it’s a joke, awkward and out of touch and unsure of what the rules are. But he offers a breath of a laugh, at least, fine, it’s fine, they’re fine, and now they’re silent driving to Vicky’s office.

Should he ask her how her week has been? If the kitchen sink is still leaking? He’s not sure. Not sure about any of it, really. Every week, Vicky asks them how they think they’re doing and Cass doesn’t even hesitate. Good, she says. Not fine, not okay, but good, usually with a sure, terse nod. It takes him a little longer to find the right word to describe how he’s doing. Not sure about that either, but it’s definitely not good. Some things are better, sure, easier not to argue when under foot, easier not to remember all the ghosts they’ve built up around themselves. But at the most basic level, he misses her, even misses arguing with her, in a perpetual state of missing something, walking around and wondering if he left his wallet at home, or if he remembered to call a client about a new build, wondering if he’s missing something essential, a limb or an organ he didn’t know about. No, none of that. Missing something else.

“You’re not wearing your ring.” She flexes her left hand over the steering wheel in response, her very bare ring finger making him feel a quick pinch of something he’ll call anger, though it’s probably something else entirely.

“No, Vicky advised I try not wearing it during the separation.”

“Why the fuck would she tell you to do that?”

“Joel.”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’re swearing.”

“Well, why didn’t she say the same thing to me?”

“Maybe because I told her this is how you would react.”

“I think I’m having a pretty normal reaction to it, actually.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just for now.”

“Right.”

“It is.”

“Seems like a strange thing to advise someone to do when they’ve been married for nearly two decades.” She parks outside of the office complex that Vicky works in, lets out a long sigh through her nose and doesn’t spare him a glance as she reaches around to the backseat and pulls her purse up front, producing her ring from somewhere deep inside of it and sliding it back on her finger.

“There, are you happy now?”

“Why the hell were you keeping it in your purse?”

“Oh my god, really?”

“That’s a real easy way to lose it is all I’m saying.” The truth is, she’s been keeping it in her purse in order to have easy access to it. Like a pulsepoint, sometimes she just needs to know it’s there, reaching into her purse underneath her desk and yep, still there, still okay. Sometimes she doesn’t get through a whole day without putting it back on. Like reflex, like ghost limb aching. But she’s not about to tell him that.

“Do not bring this up with Vicky.”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know we drove here together.”

“You’re that worried about what Vicky thinks?”

“She’s our therapist, I’m a healthy and appropriate amount worried about what Vicky thinks.”

“You know she’s not the arbiter of marriage just because she has a couple of degrees, right?”

“Really, the arbiter of marriage?”

“Are you doing that thing you do, is that what this is?”

“What thing?”

“Cass.”

“What thing?”

“Are you trying to win therapy?” Fuck him. No, really, fuck him. He’s doing that thing, his thing to her thing, half a smile in the passenger’s seat like he’s got her. Awful, of course he’s got her, smug and sure in his getting her. She doesn’t answer his question, knowing that her silence is an answer in and of itself and not really caring because they have therapy, damn it, and it’s going to be his fault if they’re late to therapy, damn it.

“You know, I’m starting to see why Vicky told us no carpooling to sessions.” Slammed shut, he sighs when she gets out of the car, thinking idly to himself that yes, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with that commandment of their therapist either. At the very least, Cass’ ring is still on her finger. He tried a few times in the past to get her something new, something nicer than the gold band he had given her when they were still young and still not able to afford much of anything, but sure enough in each other to want to keep doing it, all of it, together. No, she would tell him, doesn’t want anything other than the gold band. What she doesn’t know is that he pawned his grandfather’s watch and an electric saw for the ring the shop owner kept in a padlocked display case. Twenty-six years old, and looking back, he thinks he would have sold a whole lot more just to get it for her.

He used to call her pearl. Something about grit that would make her roll her eyes and ask him what late night National Geographic TV special he got that line from, all the while inwardly swooning because sure, she had been baby before, babe, an errant sweetheart even, but pearl was new, and tooth-decayingly sweet. And when he proposed, Sarah bouncing around them like a manic cupid, Cassandra made an ugly sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry, little black velvet box and a ring that was more signet than wedding, simple and gold and a single pearl set in the center of it. Her hands clasped, she runs the pad of her finger over her ring, wordless and worrying it on the elevator ride up to Vicky’s office.

Vicky has a thing for lamps and art prints of naked women. Her waiting room is a little dim, no windows, green velveteen loveseat and two high-backed wooden chairs that they always take when they get here, his eyes scanning over the coffee table laden with back-ordered Psychology Today magazines, headlines about overcoming anxiety and exercising your way out of depression. There had been one about postpartum depression somewhere in the pile the last time they came, but he had made a point of hanging back after Cass left, some excuse about checking an insurance thing with Vicky, though what he really did was pluck out that magazine and throw it away in the men’s restroom down the hall. One less thing to worry about, at the least.

“Hi, you two, come on back.” The sessions always start the same. Vicky asks them how they think the week went, and they both offer up some iteration of fine. Vicky asks them if they’ve been upholding their phase of separation, and she answers before Joel can, pointedly not looking at him, yes, no contact between sessions. But apparently, this week is going to be different.

“We are nearing the end of the total separation phase. After this initial period of cooling off for both of you, the real work can begin.” Right, phases, because Vicky works in phases like this is some sort of military siege. He tries not to roll his eyes at the real work beginning.

“Can either of you remember the last date you went on together?”

“It would’ve been in August, right before the separation.” Cass scoffs at his answer, tilt of her head like, really?

“Tommy and Maria’s baby shower hardly counts as a date. But we did go to dinner at the end of July.”

“I don’t think your work banquet counts either.” Vicky hits them with that look, that yeah, that’s what I thought look, all raised brow and scrunched nose and nodding. Not that she is, but if she, hypothetically, were trying to win therapy, Cassandra thinks she wouldn’t be doing a great job of it right now.

“Right, well, you’ve made my point for me. It’s not unusual for people who have been together for as long as you two have to let things like this fall to the wayside. However, it can be very helpful to reestablish some of these routines. Think of it as marriage maintenance.”

“So you want us to start going on dates again?”

“Yes, but not with each other.” Did she? Did he? Hear that right? Cass is nodding like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, like, yes, of course, this is just the solution they’ve been looking for. This time, he doesn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, what?” Both of them look at him like, yes, keep up, please, let us explain this to you very slowly so you can keep up, please. Something about seeing what life is like outside of their marriage, testing the waters, seeing if they still like the same things without their extra marital limb, something about making a decision about their marriage, though he tunes most of that part out because, no, thanks, no new decision has been needed since he got down on one knee during that trip to Galveston, sunscreen and sticky sweet and he’s not sure if he or Sarah was more excited, but he was definitely more nervous. And Cass said yes, and then he wasn’t nervous anymore, not scared anymore, and that’s all there was to it, is to it, right? Right.

“This is the closing exercise of the total separation phase. It’s really important that you both have this opportunity to see what it’s like to be back in the dating pool. Think of it as a trial run of if you decide to make this separation–”

“No, no thanks. That’s not– we’re not those people, so, you know, we can just move onto the next phase.”

“Joel.” The mom voice of all things, and he knows for certain now that Cass is trying to win therapy, nudging her shoe into the side of his, and, come on, really? She’s really bought that hard into what Vicky’s selling? Now that, that isn’t like her, at all.

“What feelings are coming up for you right now, Joel?” She fucking hates that question, and she imagines that he does too, fingers drumming on his knee, long sigh, and she knows that look, that’s his getting ready to bolt look. Big man, big, skittish man who has accidentally nailed his fingers to house frames and hardly shed a tear. But feelings? Yeah, forget it.

“Uh, I guess I’m confused as to why that is so important for us to do. We came here to help our– to help us, not to create more problems.”

“And you think that if you and Cassandra went on dates, one date, with other people, that it would create more problems in your marriage?” Well, it’s hardly rocket science, Vicky, though judging by the way she’s speaking to him, he’s pretty sure he failed some kind of test of hers. He doesn’t particularly care.

“I imagine it’d do that to anyone’s marriage.”

“It’s just one date, it’s a part of the process.” She’s starting to get pissed, and trying very hard not to show it in front of Vicky should she get the what feelings are coming up for you treatment. When they agreed to start going to therapy, like a pair of dogs gagging down a pill, they had both agreed to put their full effort into it, and if Vicky wasn’t in the room with them currently, Cassandra would sharply remind him of that agreement.

“Maybe I should clarify the expectations around this exercise. It’s one date, preferably with people outside of your shared social circle, and it would be best if the focus is just on the date, no sexual relations.”

“Oh really, you think that’d be best?”

“Joel.” He gives her a slack and slanted look, speaking two different languages, apparently. And really, she doesn’t see what the big deal is. One date versus sixteen years is pretty obvious math for her to square up, though it doesn’t seem to be for him. But, watching him engage in psychological tennis with Vicky, some new jab dripping in sarcasm for every reassurance she tries to offer him, the realization comes to Cassandra slowly, simply. Joel is scared.

By the time they leave Vicky’s office, he feels deflated, defeated, because yes, they are, apparently, going to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them, scheduled in three weeks instead of one to give them time to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them.

“Can’t we just, you know, say we did it but not actually do it?”

“Are you serious right now?” Judging by the look she gives him, a quick, sharp flicker of her eyes before she focuses back on the road, he thinks he probably shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t, but, well.

“Is this about pleasing Vicky, or are you just that interested in dating someone else?”

“Don’t be a child about this, Joel. It’s a therapeutic–”

“It’s bullshit is what it is. I don’t– I already know what I want, and I don’t need to go testing the waters to be sure of it. What I’m not so sure about is if you can say the same.” She can’t put her finger on anything specific, probably just a slow-building amalgamation of things. Stressful week at work, and the leaking sink getting worse, and her doctor increasing a medication dosage that’s made her body feel like something other than her body, and this fucking therapy and this fucking trying and she’s trying so hard and she feels like she’s failing and when she glances at him he looks hurt, really hurt, a close crumple in his face, deep frown, and it frustrates her because all she’s trying to do is do it right, and all she gets is this constant rhythm of resistance, this push and pull and yes, it’s all of that, all of that creeping up her throat tight and hot and curling behind her eyes sending salt pinpricks and sharp pangs. When the first sob breaks, it does so as a gasp, like a small and stunned thing in her chest. And, well, it’s never uphill from there, is it?

“Do you– do we need to pull over?”

“No, I don’t need to fucking pull over. I’m not an invalid, I can cry and drive at the same time.” Except it doesn’t come out quite like that, not smooth like that. The words get stop-started with each new shudder, new stutter, hiccuping on fucking and invalid. The world has gone to slanted stained-glass through all her tears.

Unsure what to do, but that’s nothing new. He doesn’t say anything else, watches her through the wary side of his eye, sobs turning into something more subdued, little wounded sounds high in her throat, a choice fuck you with a little more bite behind it when someone cuts her off merging onto the highway. He feels useless, feels like, maybe, this is what Vicky should be talking with them about instead of her siege on marriage plan. All he knows is that he seems to get it wrong every time, so this time, he doesn’t interject or intervene, doesn’t say any more than he already has. He lets her cry, and he lets her drive.

He doesn’t know when it happened. When he decided he was going to fix things for her, or just fix her, really. His lady in pieces and he was going to put her back together, and it seemed like every time he tried to, she just shattered a little more. That April is the obvious answer, the most shattered he had ever seen her. But the fighting had started before then, and so had the fixing that wasn’t really fixing. Like a relief, like a release, the slow realization that no, it never worked, and no, it was never going to work. The sobs turn into shivers turn into something even smaller. By the time they pull up in front of his apartment complex, it has passed.

“I just– I want to do this right, this therapy thing, and I want it to work, and I want it to work so we can be okay again. That’s what I want.” The words hang between them. He makes no move to get out of the car, and she counts her inhales in the silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like a child’s logic, or maybe a hail Mary, and she knows it, feels a little insane saying it, the words fitting strangely in her mouth. The brief wondering comes to her, what would she have said about where they are now to her girlfriends, what snark, what sharp jokes at their expense? Him in an apartment and a fifteen minute drive separating them and a woman named Vicky unraveling (and in theory, putting back together) their marriage in phases, fucking phases, and fucking Vicky. She doesn’t want to go on a date with someone else, and she doesn’t know why she’s taking Vicky’s instructions as gospel. But she does know, doesn’t she? It’s not about Vicky, not about Vicky and her fucking phases. Fixing, being fixed, that’s what she wants.

“So, you’re saying you want us to date other people in order to fix our marriage.” Grateful that she takes it for the joke he meant it as, it’s just enough to slough off some of the tension, roll of her eyes, please. They both let out a sigh, too tired for much else. But maybe, he thinks, this counts as progress, sitting here with her in the car and the sun washing everything down burnt and orange. He watches her eyes drop shut for a moment, fine lines like porcelain fissures and he loves those lines, liked catching her in the bathroom with her face pressed up close to the mirror and her fingers pulling those lines taut around her eyes, her mouth. He’d pull her hands away from her face, ask her if she was planning her halloween costume for next year, earning a scoff and a roll of her eyes and her trying to pull away from him, and he wouldn’t let her. Making it better with kisses to those lines, and eventually, her pressing her fingers as light as prayers over his, an implicit wondering, where did the time go?

“Look, if it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just lie to Vicky. We could still get like, an A-minus in therapy if we leave just one thing out.”

“I didn’t realize therapy came with a grade.” He smiles, all soft, and she can’t help the sheepish bloom in her chest, rolling her lips back into her mouth to hide her own grin, eventually, reluctantly, admitting in a quiet, skewed to the side voice, okay, so maybe, maybe I was doing that thing, that winning thing. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s a mercy. Just nods, of course, and of course, he knew, maybe even before she did, and is that knowing not a mercy too? She thinks it is.

“I want to do this right too, Cass. And, I mean, we’re paying Vicky enough money that we should do what she tells us to.”

“Are you saying you want to do it then?”

“Want is a strong word.”

“Okay, are you saying you’re willing to do it?”

“It’s just the one?”

“Just the one.”

“Alright, fuck it, let’s do it. We better get a goddamn A-plus at the end of this.”

“Mmm, gold stars too.” Another sigh, another settling. How nice, another sigh, another settling. It’s a strange equation, but she thinks it still adds up. Neither of them want to do this, not really, but they’re willing to, and they’re willing to because of each other. Willing to try and get it right for each other. Just, well, ignore the finer details of what getting it right entails.

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“On Monday, yeah. Called to wish me a happy birthday.”

“Well, only off by four days, not too bad.”

“Oh no, she called on Monday because she was, and I quote, too busy the rest of the week to call.”

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“Is it bad that sometimes I kinda hate it?”

“Hate what?”

“That she’s like, a fully-formed person now. I miss the days when she was a little blob who liked holding onto me by one of my belt loops.” He has to smile, nod, because he knows exactly what she means. And the truth of it is that Sarah was so good, maybe the best, if he’s allowed to give his completely biased opinion. And the other truth, Cass is, was, one of those people simply meant to be a parent, a mother. He remembers when they first started dating, and all the exhausting maneuvering he did, getting his parents or Tommy to watch Sarah, a string of canceled dinner plans when his kid couldn’t seem to stop catching things at daycare. He was sure that Cass would lose interest every time another piece of his reality was revealed to her. After all, he was not unfamiliar with being left behind. But that never happened, she stayed every time.

It was Cass who first suggested it. Didn't want to impose, but what if, maybe we could, would it be okay if, why don’t we. They went to the zoo that weekend, if he remembers correctly, Sarah in tow, shy at first around the woman she barely knew, though she bloomed over the course of the day. Yes, he thinks, it was the zoo, because he remembers how by the end of the day, Cass had her on her hip, as easy as anything, so she could get a better view of the rhinos. He knows now that, even in those earliest days, she loved his kid just as much as she loved him. He knows now what a gift that was, and continues to be.

“She’s gonna be alright, Cass. We did good with her.” She sighs, yeah, we did. She had been worried about telling her about the whole lieutenant-LMFT thing, the whole quasi-separation thing, but that was a direct command from Vicky, letting the family know what was going on. Sarah had taken it surprisingly well when she called, could be good, mom, like a reset. Of course, they kept the worst of it away from her, and of course, she still knew something had changed, something not right between them. No one was left unscathed after that April.

From the start, loving him included loving Sarah. It was never difficult for her to do both. Sweet girl, bright like the sun girl, rounded cheeks and bouncing curls, and Cassandra found that her love for her had a particular effect on her heart. Whenever small hand reached for one of hers, whenever small face tucked into her neck, whether tear-damp or milk-tired, and eventually, whenever she was given the name mom, like a stop and restart of her heart, like something turning back on inside her and finally working right. An everything kind of love, to not only be chosen by him, but to be chosen by her too.

“Well, anyways, Vicky didn’t make any stipulations about birthdays, so I have something for you.” Just a small thing, she says, leaning over the console and into the back seat, and he knows better than to say no, shouldn’t have, because there’s already a perfect package being placed in his hands, navy blue wrapping paper and a white bow, and her hand cups underneath his for just a moment, there and gone.

The truth is she had already picked out this gift two months ago, what feels like a lifetime before this separation. Now, watching him open it, she’s a little worried it had been presumptuous of her, if not completely narcissistic. But if he thinks that, he makes no show of it, lets out a quiet laugh as he takes the watch out of the box and holds it up in the fading light to look at it.

“It’s a little sappy, maybe. But, well, we have something that kinda matches now.” Something is unfurling in his chest, heat loosening something he didn’t even realize he had been tightening up around. It’s a beautiful watch, rich leather strap and polished silver. And the face of it catches and shimmers a little in the light. He knows right away that it’s mother of pearl.

Here, she says, let me, and he does, feeling a little indulgent watching her fasten the watch around his wrist, and definitely breaking one of fucking Vicky’s fucking rules when he ducks his head down and steals a kiss, another one, letting the third deepen just a little, both of them humming because missed this, missed this, didn’t realize how much, but missed this.

“Thank you, pearly.” It feels good to be so close to him, noses brushing and smiles curling around each other. Feels like a relief.

“Happy birthday, one day ahead. We could, you know, do something tomorrow? Get dinner maybe?” Before he can answer, say yes, she’s already caught herself, sheepish smile and pulling a little further away and oh, right. She says sorry, wasn’t thinking, and they do an awkward dance around the whole thing, right, yeah, probably shouldn’t, right, yeah. He is not a hateful man, and it would be too strong to say he’d wish Vicky harm. But if something were to happen, in theory, that’d make Vicky go the fuck away, in theory, he wouldn’t be too torn up about it.

“See you next Thursday then?”

“Well, next next Thursday, because we have to do the– yeah.”

“Right, yeah.” Right, yeah, this is the part where he gets out of the car. The part where he goes up to his apartment and she drives home and they don’t eat dinner together and they don’t brush their teeth together and they don’t go to sleep together. Right, yeah. They say goodnight. He’d like to say love, but he doesn’t. She’d like to say love, but she doesn’t. And they part ways.

She hates being in this house alone. Leaves all the lights on all hours of the day and checks all the locks three times before going upstairs to bed. Passes by the closed door that remains closed with her breath held. She knows it makes no sense, but she’s been sleeping in the guestroom, makes the whole thing a little easier. Always had a tendency toward insomnia, tossing and turning brain and body.

When they were just starting to get more serious, and she was just starting to stay over at his more often, she got worried that eventually it'd drive him mad enough for the whole thing to not be worth it, neither of them getting much sleep as they learned how to share a bed together. And she doesn't remember how it started exactly, maybe out of a moment of pure exasperation, him draping just enough of his weight over her to press slower breath into her lungs and still her body. It became a routine, she'd ask could you? And he'd already know what she was asking for without her having to say any more than that. What she also doesn't remember, when that stopped working, when she stopped asking, and he stopped answering. She supposes it all happened slowly, just like the rest of it.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller fic #joel miller au

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bobbyonboard · 2 years

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Peppermint [Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader]

Summary: i saw this tiktok of lewis pullman and it was so goddamn sexual my brain wouldn’t shut up until i wrote something about it. also know as--it’s 115 degrees in Lemoore and the AC in Bob’s truck is busted.

Warnings: swearing, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, hair pulling, please assume the reader is always on some sort of contraceptive in my fics unless i state otherwise, bob is a switch and no i will not be taking any questions at this time, minors DO not interact with me you lil shits

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: y’all were so nice with my last one regarding Rooster, I had to write one for my main man!!! also cannot get over I have like 300 new followers. never be afraid to come talk to me!!

“Fuck. Off,” you grumbled in the direction of the television as you heard the chipper weatherman inform you that the high today in Lemoore, California was going to be a record-breaking one hundred and fifteen degrees fahrenheit. One hundred and fifteen fucking degrees. You never hated the Navy more than you did in that moment. Who the fuck gets stationed in Lemoore? No beaches, no shade. Just heat, and lots of it. But where your husband goes, you go–and unfortunately, you both were stuck in Lemoore.

The July air was thick and it wasn’t even nine in the morning, so you made sure that you didn’t have a single thing to do that day except stay inside the apartment, laying upside-down on your couch directly in front of your tiny window AC unit. You’d always loved being a teacher, but days like this, when you thought you actually might melt if you went outside, you were sure as hell glad you had summers off.

Your day passed by lazily, only shuffling between the couch and the kitchen to get more water what seemed like every thirty minutes. Before you knew it, it was already four o’clock, and you were expecting Bob home any minute.

Bob had told you that morning he was heading out to run a few test flights on some newer planes, so you expected him to come home freshly showered from the Naval base locker rooms, smelling of Old Spice and car air freshener that had been blasted over his clothes from his aggressive truck air conditioning. But instead, when you lazily glanced over your shoulder to the sound of keys jingling, you were greeted with…well, certainly not that.

Bob’s hair was frizzed and stuck straight up in the back, almost as if he had just taken off his helmet. His clothes were stuck to his skin, large sweat stains covering most of the material of his t-shirt. His cheeks were a dark shade of red, and his eyes looked as though they were currently in the process of holding back unshed tears.

“Bobby?,” you frowned, quickly standing up, crossing the room, and quickly taking his duffel bag from his hand to toss on the floor. “Honey, whassamatter? You okay?,” you asked, putting the back of your hand on his forehead and physically wincing at how hot his skin was to the touch.

“Pipes burst,” was all he murmured out, bottom lip trembling just slightly, and it was quite literally breaking your heart to see him so miserable. “We landed and–and went to go shower and they told us a pipe burst, so the showers weren’t working. So I couldn’t shower and–,” he started to breathe a bit heavier, almost as if his own clothes were weighing him down worse than any g-force.

“I got to the truck and the AC was just blowing out hot air. So I rode all the way home with the windows down and I’m just so hot,” he finally whimpered, and you just brushed his wet hair out of his face with a soft coo.

You hated to see him like this. You couldn’t imagine how hot he had to be in that plane today, only to land and not be able to cool down like his body so desperately needed. An idea suddenly popped into your brain, and you were taking off down the hallway.

“Put your arms up, honey,” you purred ever so gently once you returned, producing a cold packet of wet wipes. You pulled one out of its bag, sighing softly at the gentle smell of peppermint, and you immediately began to wipe down Bob’s face and neck.

“Thank you-u-u-u,” he practically sobbed, arms stuck straight out at his sides as you began to slide the wipes under his t-shirt, along his shoulders, under his armpits, his chest, and his waist. “What does it do?,” he asked after a moment, almost afraid to open his eyes for fear that this was all some fever dream and he’d be standing back on the tarmac, dripping sweat.

“I keep these in my little fridge in the bathroom, with all my skin care stuff,” you hummed sweetly, pulling a fresh wipe out and continuing on the bit of skin where you left off. “It helps me freshen up before I go to bed at night, or when I come back from the gym and I’m just too tired to shower before bed,” you chuckle, ghosting a feather-light kiss over his brow as you continued to work on cooling him down.

“Feels so good,” he whimpered, and his once red cheeks were now only a soft pink, his breathing returning to a relatively normal pace.

“Good, baby. You’ll feel better in just a minute, yeah? Got this AC on you, and you smell all peppermint-y,” you teased, and you don’t know if it was the practically obscene noises Bob was letting out, or the way he was absolute putty in your hands, but you let the wipes in your hand dip a little lower into the waistband of his pants.

A strangled moan escaped Bob’s lips, and you just let one hand pop open the buttons of his pants, sliding them down his legs.

“Gotta get you completely covered,” you whispered, dropping down to your knees where you began to work on wiping down his thighs. After mere seconds, you glanced up to see a ten already forming in your husband’s boxers, and damn, if that didn’t make a girl’s ego soar.

“M’sorry,” he almost cried, shivering under your touch. “Just–feels so good. You make me feel so good.”

“I always wanna make you feel good, honey,” you purred, peppering his thighs with kisses and feeling the leftover peppermint oil tingle your lips. You eventually stood back up (despite a noise of protest from your husband) and stripped him down to only his boxers, getting a final fresh wipe out of the pack and letting it drag along his skin.

“Come sit,” you took his hand, leading him over so he was directly in front of the AC unit, resting on the plush couch as he immediately tossed his head back out let out a pornographic moan, which caused you to clench your thighs together in delight.

“Y’so good t’me,” Bob practically slurred, completely overwhelmed with the lavish attention he was receiving, and his skin began to prickle when the freezing cold air blew against his minty skin.

“You deserve it all, Bobby,” you whispered, moving to straddle his hips, your thin pajama pants and his boxers the only thing separating the two of you as you wiped his cheeks down for the final time, before pressing a chaste kiss to the apple of each one.

Bob said your name with a strangled cry, hips immediately rocking up to get some friction, any friction at all. And who were you to deny such a pretty boy something he wanted so desperately? So you just relaxed yourself slowly, lazily rocking down on his achingly hard cock and letting out a soft moan of your own.

Your nipples were hard from where they were currently being assaulted by a barrage of cold air from the unit, and they were settled right in front of your husband’s face, which proved to make his next task considerably easier. He hooked his fingers in the straps of your tank top and tugged them down your arms before his lips were wrapped around your right nipple, sucking on it lightly and letting it roll between his teeth. You let out a soft cry, your fingers tangling immediately in his damp hair as you began to rock yourself against him a bit faster.

It was only a few minutes before he pulled off with an obscenely wet ‘pop’, letting his head rest against your sternum.

“Y/N–,” Bob choked out, his hips stilling immediately.

“Okay, sweetheart,” was all you said, lifting yourself just slightly out of his lap to give him a moment to focus.

It didn’t take him long at all, because just a second later you were being pushed onto your back on the couch, with your lover’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs and tossing them to the floor. Not a moment was wasted as he immediately licked a long, hot stripe between your folds, fingers digging into your hips.

“Robert,” you gasped, and you swear you could feel that son of a bitch smirk, even face first in your cunt. If his hair wasn’t already a mess, it certainly was now, the way you were tugging on it and rocking your hips against his face to try and get the perfect rhythm.

It didn’t take long. It never did with Bob. He somehow knew exactly what to do to have you coming on his tongue in five minutes flat, keeping your hips pressed down to the couch.

“Bobby–,” you tried to warn, but it was too late. At your cry of his name, he gave a certain flick of his tongue and you were coming fast and hard, riding his face like your life depended on it, his tongue pressed flat against your clit as you shook with each pulse of your orgasm.

You barely had time to think, no less to actually say anything, before he was tugging you into a new position. You were bent over the back of the couch, face perfectly aligned with the air conditioning as Bob got behind you, one knee on the edge of the couch.

“You ready for me, darlin’?,” he asked, and God, you could have died right there.

“Always, baby.”

You felt him slide into you smoothly, using one hand to guide himself and the other slide up your body to your hair, gathering a handful and giving you a harsh tug. The way he bent you had your chest getting covered with cold air, nipples hard enough to cut diamonds.

“Fuck, you always feel so fuckin’ good,” he moaned, putting his other knee on the couch as he began to piston his hips against your ass, the slapping sounds your skin made filling your small apartment, loud enough to be heard even over the roaring AC.

You, however, were unable to respond, due to the absolute overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through your body. Your head and neck began to ache deliciously, and the way the head of Bob’s cock brushed against your sweet spot with each thrust had you mewling under his hands.

“I’m not gonna–,” Bob grunted, and you understood, Whenever he was needy, he never lasted long, and that was certainly fine by you. Like you said–it was an ego boost.

“S’okay, baby,” you panted, and he reached forward to play with one of your tits, his chest pressed to your back as he fucked you even harder.

“So good for me. Fuckin’--fillin’ my pussy up. Fuck, Bobby, you’re gonna make me come again,” you practically sobbed, and the fact that the two of you were sweating from exertion but also cool from the air conditioning made everything that more sensitive.

The praise went straight to Bob’s dick, and you could feel it twitching already.

“Please–,” he gasped, trying so hard to last until he could make you come again.

“Go ahead, honey. Come for me. Come for me, Bobby,” you groaned, wincing in pleasure at how your sensitive cunt was already teetering on the edge of orgasm.

You had barely finished your command before Bob was spilling himself inside of you, letting out a high-pitched whine as he emptied himself. He managed to let the hand that was in your hair slide down your body and move to your pussy, fingers rubbing quickly at your clit.

“Baby, come for me. Wanna feel you come on my cock,” he practically begged, even though he had already orgasmed, he would simply die for the chance to feel you clenching on his softening cock still inside of you, practically milking every bit of come he had given you.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, gripping tight at the back of the couch as you felt your orgasm wash over you for the second time that evening, cringing out softly each time your cunt squeezed your husband’s cock, feeling it nestled deep inside of you.

Soft whimpered and moans spilled from Bob’s lips, along with various words of filth that didn’t exactly form a coherent sentence, but they were so goddamn sexy all the same.

As he pulled out slowly, he leaned over to press a soft kiss to the small of your back before two of you landed in a messy pile on the couch, trying to catch your breath.

You curled up next to him, almost (dare you say) chilly from the constant cold air on your skin, and your eyes closed to enjoy those post-coital moments together before you had to get up and clean yourselves off.

“You know,” Bob started, fingertips brushing lightly over your sides. “Bet we could really cool down in the shower.”

taglist: @walkonthewiidside

people that might be interested in this idk: @bradshawsbaby @callsignbob @thebradleybradshaw

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explorevenus · 1 year

Text

toy cars & princess tea parties ♡ steddie x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!! srsly i will scream

word count - 4.8k

description - a few years after the (non-canon) events of season four, steddie and reader are grappling with the implications of adulthood-- eddie comes home from work with an interesting idea to take their relationship to the next milestone...

tags/warnings - polyamory, pet names (baby, princess, angel, doll, etc.), praise, threesome, breeding, fem!reader, eddie being mischievous bc he 100% planned this, steve playing right into eddie’s hand and going absolutely feral, p-in-v ofc ♡ also one use of (Y/N) which i didn’t know was a problem for some people but apparently it is so there’s ur warning

a/n - ok i’m sorry but ever since my first time witnessing the six lil nuggets speech i cannot get over the CANONIZED FACT that steve harrington is INTO BREEDING. it’s canon to me and u can ARGUE WITH THE WALL. that being said i felt it was my civic duty to rope eddie into it bc i physically cannot help myself and here we are ♡ i hope u enjoy, i will repent later ♡

p.s. i used the stand-in name ‘jennifer’ for them to refer to a random npc classmate of theirs bc apparently that was an incredibly popular name in the 80′s so if ur name is actually jennifer i am sorry in advance but the name is only mentioned like two or three times at the beginning so

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ! ♡

-venus ♡

It started out as a quiet, normal evening.

You were curled up on the couch with Steve, drifting in and out of naps as he played with your hair and absently watched whatever was on the TV. You were both off work today, and unsurprisingly, it was rather quiet without Eddie around. He'd been working late shifts at the record store lately-- something about a coworker needing a schedule change to coincide with her college classes.

So, there the two of you sat, your hair messy with sleep as you slumped into Steve's chest, his strong arm closed tight around your shoulder, thumb caressing your exposed arm where your blanket had slipped down. It was cozy, it was lazy, it was sweet.

A stark contrast to what you didn't know you were in for that night.

Your sleepy eyes blinked open at the sound of the front door to your shared apartment opening, and you and Steve both turned your heads to see Eddie walk in. Eddie tossed his keys on the counter and stretched his arms up with a dramatic, satisfied groan before kicking his boots off, and his dark chocolate eyes soon trailed across the room to you and Steve.

His lips were quick to upturn into a smile. "What a sight to come home to. Aren't you two just adorable?"

"Says you," You mumbled tiredly, opening up your arms so as to coax him to join you on the couch. "How was work?"

Eddie's posture softened and he wasted little time giving into your command, plopping down on the couch beside you and joining Steve in playing with your hair. "It was fine. Work's work, y'know."

You hummed in acknowledgement, just about to drift back to sleep at the added warmth of his body before he spoke up again.

"Do you guys remember Jennifer from high school?" Eddie asked.

Steve pondered for a moment. "Jennifer... which Jennifer?"

"Chess club Jennifer," Eddie confirmed. "She came into the record store with her boyfriend today, that guy Todd? Well, I guess he's her husband now. Anyway, she was like, super pregnant. Isn't that weird to think about? People we went to high school with are having kids now."

It certainly was weird to think about. High school felt like it was a lifetime ago just about as much as it felt like yesterday, and classmates getting married and starting families were just another harsh reminder that you were all well and truly adults now.

"Yeah... wow. That's a trip," You mumbled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "Sometimes I forget we're not 16 anymore."

"Yeah, seriously," Steve hummed in agreement, and you could have sworn you noticed his muscles tense beneath you.

"Well, good for them," You added, hoping to cut through some of that tension. "They've been dating since like, freshman year. I guess it was only a matter of time."

Eddie let out a little breath through his nose, grinning as he stared forward at the TV, but it was evident he wasn't really watching.

You raised an eyebrow and nudged him. "What?"

Eddie shrugged, drumming his fingers on your hip and stealing glances between you and Steve. "Only a matter of time, huh?" He asked. "Good to know."

Eyes widening, you quickly straightened your posture and stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" You pressed further. Steve was watching him too, reaching for the remote and muting the TV without even looking. The silence was deafening.

Eddie shrugged again, face smug with amusement. "I don't know, it's just... seeing them all happy together and starting a family, it just kinda got me thinking, y'know? That could be us someday."

Steve's hand froze on your arm, and now you could hardly read his expression. You just stared between them with eyes so wide you were sure they could see right through them and into the cogs turning in your head.

"Just think about it for a sec, okay? Indulge me for a minute," Eddie continued. "Little Munsons and Harringtons running around, Saturday morning cartoons, bathing fat little babies in the sink... wonder whose seed'll take first," He chuckled to himself.

But that comment alone got to you. Your face burned, and now it was you pretending to watch the TV, even with the sound off. Heat pooled in your core with an embarrassing quickness, and it felt nearly impossible to fight off the image of trying, Steve and Eddie fucking you into a sobbing mess and filling you up to the brim, competing to see who would knock you up first. You swallowed dryly.

"I-I need some water," You stammered, peeling yourself out of their arms and abandoning your blanket as you disappeared into the kitchen.

You had never really talked about having kids before. Steve had always shown an interest in starting a family, but you weren't really sure where you stood, and Eddie didn't seem like the type. You always figured it would be a conversation for another day, a day in the distant future when you were all finally adults working big jobs, picket fence and whatnot.

Yet here you were.

"You alright there, baby?" Steve's voice broke you out of your deep thought and you realized your glass was full beneath the tap, cool water spilling out over your fingers shortly after he'd spoken.

You flinched and turned off the water, setting your glass down and reaching for a rag to dry your hands. You couldn't quite bring yourself to look at him as you replied, "I'm fine, just... thinking."

"Thinkin' pretty hard, it looks like," Eddie teased, coming up behind you with a squeeze to your hips and a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. "Didn't mean to freak you out, doll."

"I'm not freaked out! I promise," You were quick to clarify, taking a big sip of your water with a shaking hand. "Just... caught off guard, I guess. I've never really thought about having kids before."

Eddie let out a little pff. "Oh, come on, I don't believe that. You've never thought about it before? Not even one time?"

You shook your head.

He turned you around in his arms, taking the glass from your hand and returning it to the counter, ensuring he had your full attention. Steve was leaned on the door frame listening, observing. Watching your reddened face.

"You're blushing," Eddie chuckled quietly, leaning down to brush his lips over your forehead before turning over his shoulder to look at Steve. "Help me out here, Harrington?"

But Steve looked just about as flustered as you did. "It would be nice," He admitted. "I've thought about it. A lot. You would make a beautiful mother, (Y/N)."

"See?" Eddie smirked. "Harrington agrees with me."

"Don't you guys think we should wait? I mean, the apartment works just fine for the three of us, but it's a little small to raise kids in, and we're still so young," You said, though you weren't fully sure whether you were trying to convince them or yourself. "It's just a really big decision. I don't think we should rush into it."

"We can get a house!" Eddie grinned, brushing your hair away from your face. "I'll work overtime at the record store, book extra gigs at The Hideout. Whatever I need to do to make that happen. We'll find somewhere real nice, fenced yard and all that. Maybe we can even talk Steve into building a treehouse."

"I don't know, Eds..." You sighed.

You fully expected Steve to back you up on the absurdity of that suggestion, but he didn't. "That's not such a bad idea. I've been saving up from my paychecks since we graduated. It was meant to be a safeguard if Vecna came back and we all needed to hit the road, but it's been a few years now. Maybe we should just do it. Real estate's pretty cheap around here, given everything that's happened."

Perhaps they had a point, although selfishly, you sort of wanted them to keep trying to talk you into it.

"That's great, but have you guys really thought this through? Like really thought it through? Babies are a lot of work, and our relationship is hard enough to explain as it is, people are going to have so many questions--"

"Then let ‘em ask," Eddie interrupted you, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, though he quickly became distracted by your throat, tipping your chin up with his pointer finger. "I don't give a fuck. It doesn't change anything. They'll just be jealous that they don't have an extra parent for their kids like we do, right Stevie?" He spoke between increasingly sloppy kisses to your neck, teeth nipping at your warming skin.

"Exactly," Steve smiled softly, crossing his legs where he stood, and you almost could have sworn you saw the front of his sweatpants tightening. "We're already better off than most couples, if my math is right."

You were quickly melting under Eddie's attention, and Steve's lustful gaze. While you might have initially hoped that excusing yourself for a drink of water would help you cool off, it was entirely obvious now that such an attempt was in vain-- you couldn't fight with yourself anymore. They'd successfully convinced you.

Swallowing thickly, you tangled your fingers into Eddie's messy curls and could hardly bring yourself to look at either of them as you spoke in a near-whisper, "O-Okay, let's do it..."

Eddie froze, pulling away from your neck with a parting nip of the flesh so that he could stare at you with stars in his eyes. "What did you just say?" He asked.

Shyly, you glanced between them, a giddy smile tugging at your burning cheeks. They both looked truly in disbelief. "I said let's do it. Let's try for a baby."

Eddie hardly had a chance to react before Steve crossed the small kitchen and took your face in his hands, pupils blown wide as his mouth collided with yours. You stumbled back into the countertop at the force of him, gripping the edge with one hand and fisting his old Hawkins High gym shirt with the other. Eddie could do little but step back and observe, and unbeknownst to you and Steve, since you were preoccupied, Eddie had quite the satisfied smirk resting on his face. Truthfully, he knew this was what Steve wanted and that it likely wouldn't be much of a challenge to get you both going, the devil that he is. There was nowhere better to start than to just witness the fruit of his efforts.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," Steve spoke against your lips, letting one hand drop down to slide up beneath your shirt-- a shirt you'd stolen from Eddie's side of the closet-- and you shivered at the feeling of his warm skin on yours. "No idea how long I've wanted to hear you say it, princess..."

"S-Steve--" You gasped, but he wasn't finished yet.

"Say it again," He grunted, hips rutting into yours, and... yeah, his grey sweatpants were definitely getting tight. "Say you're gonna make me a fuckin' daddy, sweetheart."

Eddie watched with anticipation, palming impatiently at the front of his jeans. He knew Steve wanted this, but he didn't know he wanted it this badly.

Breaths quickening, you briefly took Steve's bottom lip between your teeth just to drive him that much crazier before giving in to his request, voice soft and sweet. "I'm gonna make you a fucking daddy, Steve..."

Steve let go of your face to hike one of your legs up over his hip, driving his clothed cock into the seat of your thin pajama shorts. You let out a choked whine, feeling a rush of wetness pooling in your panties, head swimming with need.

"Forgetting someone, angel?" Eddie interjected smugly, eyebrow raised, working himself stiff over his jeans.

Panting against Steve's hot, wet kisses, you barely managed to get the words out. "G-Gonna make you a daddy, Eds... gonna give you a baby..."

Steve groaned against you, lips sloppily trailing down your chin as he lifted you up in one quick motion, peeking his eyes open just enough to orient himself so that he could carry you towards the bedroom. You grabbed at Eddie's free hand as you passed, dragging him along with you, although he hardly needed any convincing-- he'd been waiting for this all day, resisting the urge to feign a sudden onset illness just to skip out of work and fuck you dumb, even though it appeared Steve was determined to beat him to it.

Steve shoved the bedroom door open with a heavy hand and wasted no time pinning you to the bed, tugging at your shirt like he'd die if it didn't come off, and in your eagerness to be touched by them you were quick to lift it over your head for him, exposing your soft chest to the cool air of the room. Steve's teeth dragged over your collarbones and down to the swell of your breast, sucking a harsh mark there before he took your nipple into his mouth and swirled over it with his slick tongue.

"F-Fuck," You sighed, taking a fistful of his thick hair.

Eddie shed himself of his t-shirt and jeans before joining the two of you on the bed, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand and stroking his hardened cock with the other. "You're gonna look so pretty with a baby in you, dollface," He mused, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. "Everyone's gonna know you're fuckin' ours, huh? Ours forever."

You nodded hazily, reaching out to grab at his thigh, your nails pressing little crescent moon shapes into his alabaster skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, pace of his hand faltering. Eddie didn't want to cum just yet, for obvious reasons, but it was hard to stop himself from jerking off as he watched you writhe under Steve's touch. He found himself having to exercise some serious self control.

Pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, Steve slid his hand beneath the waistband of your shorts and ran two fingers over your drenched panties. "So good and wet for me already," He praised, watching with lust thick in his eyes as you inadvertently bucked into his hand. "You just can't wait, can you? Want me to fuck a baby into you so bad..."

"Y-Yes, Steve, please," You whimpered, shaking hands carding through his hair. "W-Want it so bad..."

"Easy, Harrington," Eddie chuckled breathlessly. "It was my idea. I'm goin' first."

Steve shot him a look that could truly kill, dragging his fingertips over your clothed clit just to make you squirm. "What are we, twelve?" He scoffed.

"Whatever. Don't make me push you off the bed, Stevie. Move," Eddie grunted, expecting Steve to put up more of a fight, but he didn't. He simply rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand from your shorts, clambering off of you to busy himself undressing for now.

Eddie crawled atop your trembling body, kissing down your chest as he dragged your panties and shorts down with a hooked finger. You hastily kicked them off and let them drop off the edge of the bed, leaving you completely bare for them. Eddie took a moment to soak in the sight of you with adoring, hungry eyes, dipping a calloused finger into your folds to ensure you were as wet as Steve said-- you definitely were, in fact, even more so than he'd been led to believe.

With a proud smirk and shaking hands he took hold of your hip, dragging the reddened, weeping head of his cock up the length of your pussy to slick himself with your arousal. You flinched at the stimulation, bucking toward him with a soft mewl of his name, a coded plea for him to get on with it, and he chuckled.

"I've got you, baby," He soothed, gifting you a sweet kiss. "Gonna fuck you real good, promise."

Your jaw dropped in bliss as the head of his cock breached your entrance, and without even thinking about it you hooked a leg around him and drew him deeper into you. He was trying to be gentle, considering they hadn't prepared you quite as well as they usually would, but he was impatient and clearly, so were you. His hips jerked into yours as he lost himself to the feeling of your plush, soaked walls hugging him tightly, and as he buried himself in to the hilt he let out a low growl that was almost animalistic.

Eyelashes fluttering, you whimpered in pleasure at the feeling, holding his soft biceps to ground yourself. "Fuck, Eddie..." You sighed, rocking into him.

"Jesus, baby, you gotta be patient, or I'm gonna bust and then neither of us will get to enjoy this," He chuckled breathlessly, fingertips pressing into your hips as he slowly began to move. "Fuck, you feel like a dream..."

Your head fell back into the pillows as the pace of his thrusts picked up and steadied-- he'd quickly found his rhythm, watching your tits move with every snap of his hips against yours, and he could hardly believe his luck that he'd found two people as perfect as you and Stevie, let alone that you'd agreed to start a family with him. Just the thought of it drove him crazy, and he could barely look at you anymore or he would finish way too soon. Screwing his eyes shut, Eddie let his own head fall back similarly to yours as he submitted himself to the feeling, and the sinful sounds of your slick cunt taking all he would give you.

Steve, newly naked, sat beside you on the bed, taking your breasts into his big hands, thumbs skimming over your pebbled nipples as he watched Eddie fuck you. "Takin' him so well, sweetheart," He mused, resisting the urge to reach for your clit. "You're such a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

"S-Stevie," You whined, speech slurring with pleasure as you reached weakly for his hand. "Feels so... so good..."

He hummed, taking a hold of your hand, lips brushing over your knuckles. "I'll bet it does, princess. Gonna let Eds make you a mama, huh?"

"Mhm," You nodded, squeezing his hand. "A-And you too..."

Steve chuckled softly, kissing your knuckles again, more affirmatively this time. "That's right. That's my good girl."

With the combination of their filthy words and the near bruising feeling of Eddie's engorged cock prodding at your cervix, you were ashamed to admit that you were already nearing the finish line too. You desperately clenched around Eddie in an attempt to hold on, but it would seem as though the action brought him that much closer to his own end.

His rings were cold on your hot skin as one hand moved from your hip to the lower part of your stomach, applying just enough pressure to intensify the feeling of his swollen cock inside you. Your mouth fell open in a near silent cry, and Eddie couldn't help a breathless little laugh at your reaction. He just couldn't believe how adorable you were, how perfect you looked even while he was fucking you like a touch starved teenager.

"Right here," Eddie groaned, taking his lip between his teeth with a wild grin. "That's where our perfect little baby is gonna grow, right between these gorgeous fuckin' hips of yours, princess..." His inked skin glowed with sweat in the low bedroom light, and your cheeks burned.

It was in that moment that you started to realize that Eddie really must have been thinking about this for a long time-- running into a classmate of yours at work was just a convenient excuse to bring it up. Regardless, you couldn't help but be glad that he did.

"S-So close, Eds, m'close... please," You whimpered, feeling that knot begin to tighten deep within you, but in his concentration it would seem Eddie had barely registered your plea.

No matter, Steve was certainly paying close attention. He gently brushed your hair away from your face so that he could admire you properly before allowing his hand to travel down the length of your stomach, dipping in the space between you and Eddie so that he could toy with your clit. Mewling in pleasure, you gripping Steve's wrist with a shaking, white knuckled hand as your high crested over you-- you felt your walls pulsing around Eddie's thick cock as your cum seeped out around him.

It would seem that alone was enough to push Eddie finally over the edge. His fingertips bore deeply into your skin, pace of his thrusts faltering as he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could manage and shortly thereafter, you were graced with warmth and butterflies as his hot seed flooded your cunt. The deep, broken moan that fell from his lips was unlike anything you'd ever heard from him before, primal and satisfied like he'd never had an orgasm quite like this. With stilted movements he continued to fuck his seed into you for just a moment until he was absolutely positive you'd drained him dry, and only then was he able to will himself to pull out.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you drive me crazy," He huffed, catching his breath as he reached forward with his thumb and caught a stray globe of pearly white that was threatening to slip out of you, pushing it gently back into your sensitive pussy. "Can't waste a single fuckin' drop, now can we? Not 'til you're good 'n knocked up, huh?"

"E-Eds," You whimpered, jolting beneath his touch and finding yourself unable to do much more than make grabby hands at him, craving his affection.

Flopping to the bed on the other side of you, his lips brushed over your sweaty temple as he soothed, "M'right here, princess, m'not goin' anywhere."

Steve was kind enough to allow you a moment to come back to Earth before reminding you of his presence with a soft touch to your thigh. "Are you ready to go again, sweetheart?" He asked, kind words juxtaposed by the absolute carnal hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide as he soaked in the pretty sight of Eddie's seed leaking from your cunt.

Just the sight of him hovering over you, careful hands spreading you open by your shaking thighs was more than enough to reignite the flame in your core, bringing a renewed wave of need. You nodded lazily, reaching for his hand.

Steve laced his fingers in yours. "Use your words, princess."

"I-I'm ready, Stevie," You sighed with a sweet smile, your hips working off of a mind of their own as you bucked gently toward him. "Want your cum... n-need it so bad..."

You almost could have sworn you saw his eyes roll back into his head in pure bliss at the sound of those words leaving your lips. In no need of any further convincing, Steve softly kneaded your quivering thigh in his large hand before taking his woefully hard cock in the other, lining himself up with your entrance in a way which took special care to push any stray seed of Eddie's back into you. Your head fell back with a quiet whine, already sensitive from having came already, but equally so your mouth was watering and you could hardly think coherently through the thick fog of need that clouded your fucked out brain.

Steve drove into you as carefully as he could manage in his eagerness, cognizant of your sensitivity but all too anxious to give it all to you. As he bottomed out inside of your slick cunt his eyes screwed shut, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of your cum-soaked walls pulling him in.

He groaned deeply, hips snapping impatiently forward. "S-Six..." He muttered, perhaps to himself, but the utterance did not go unnoticed by you or Eddie.

"Huh?" You mewled, squeezing his hand as you rocked on the bed. "Stevie?"

"Six," He said more clearly now. "I've always wanted six... six cute little terrors, and you're gonna be their mama, huh?"

"Six?" You gasped, but were quickly subdued by the pleasure of his thick cock rutting deeply inside of you, threatening closer to your cervix.

Eddie chuckled. "We could handle it. I mean, we've had plenty of practice."

Now it was you squeezing your eyes shut, head lazily shaking back and forth on the mattress. "Uh-uh," You moaned. "T-That's... s'too many..."

"Jus' think about it," Steve grinned. "Three boys, three girls. Toy cars and princess tea parties, road trips in Eddie's van..."

"S'too much," You slurred, though at this point neither Steve nor Eddie could tell if you were still referring to the six kids thing or if you were just getting overstimulated. They silently figured both were possibly true.

Eddie smoothed your hair away from your forehead. "Doin' so well for us, princess. Just a little longer, m'kay? Stevie's gonna take good care of you."

Tears pricked at your eyes as your second high of the night continued approaching all too quickly. Every last movement Steve made pushed you closer and closer to the edge, beckoning you to finish once more, and it felt so horrifically good that it almost hurt. You could hardly think straight, unintelligible moans tumbling from your lips as you squeezed Steve's hand like he'd disappear if you let go.

"Don't fight it," Steve said breathlessly, squeezing your hand in return as an acknowledgement of your inability to speak up. "Just cum for me, honey, just let go and cum for me..."

His words alone sent shivers down the length of you that glittered and bloomed at the base of your spine and brought your legs together, inadvertently pulling him deeper into you as you cried out and gushed over his hard cock. Your whole body shaking, you hardly even noticed that your free hand was reaching for Eddie's.

"Aww... you're okay, you're alright," Eddie cooed, taking your hand while Steve continued to rut into you, though it was evident he wasn't far from his end, either. "You still with us, pumpkin?" Eddie checked in.

It took you a second to fully process what he'd asked of you, but once you did, you nodded hazily.

"That's my girl, all fucked out and dumb," He praised. "Aren't you just the cutest, hm?"

Eddie brought your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles, and when you pulled his hand towards yourself he expected you would return the affection-- instead, you took his thick middle and ring fingers into your mouth as if to pacify yourself.

He nearly came again at that motion alone.

Steve, who watched this exchange occur with lust-blown eyes, drove into your cunt hard, white knuckling your hips as his jaw dropped in a jagged moan and he emptied his seed as deeply inside you as he could physically manage. For a moment he couldn't bring himself to pull out, rocking into you just a few more gentle times as if to fuck it further in. You were a quivering, whining mess at the hand of his ministrations.

Once he had properly descended back to Earth from his high, Steve leaned down to kiss the blushing bridge of your nose, and then Eddie's ringed knuckles that rested just before your lips. You blinked absently, tears bubbling in your lashes, but even so you couldn't help but smile at how sweet they could be in the aftermath of acts that would reasonably deny you entry into heaven.

"You're so good for us, sweetheart," Steve mused, steadying you by your waist as he unsheathed himself from you, slowly so as not to waste any of their seed. "I can't wait for us to have our own family."

You sucked softly at Eddie's fingers, gazing up at Steve with hazy doe eyes that wordlessly pleaded for him to join you on the bed. Typically he would make you say what you wanted out loud, but neither of them felt the need to bother tonight. After all, you were gifting them something they couldn't get from anyone else, something they only wanted from you.

Catching his breath, Steve brushed his hair away from his face and laid on the other side of you, drawing your shaking body into his warm chest. Eddie scratched your back lovingly as Steve played with your soft hair.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed while you all regained proper consciousness, but that silence was broken by Eddie.

"I hope it’s a boy.”

"A boy?" You gasped, turning over your shoulder to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Like there aren't enough of you already?"

#venustext #sintext #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut

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janeyseymour · 2 months

Text

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Summary: Melissa is released from the hospital, meanwhile, JJ is located.

WC: ~1.65k

The little boy ends up falling asleep in the car, adrenaline leaving his body and pure exhaustion setting in. When he wakes up, he wakes up to nearly being thrown out of the seat of the car again. This time though, the seatbelt catches him, and while it burns like hell on his neck- because he shouldn’t be in the car without the seatbelt, he does not repel forward. He slams back into his seat with a loud yelp, and he hears a loud bang.

Joe just crashed the car. Joe just crashed the car into a tree on one of the back roads he was taking, and the airbags deployed- saving his life. With the fire-retardant that comes out of the airbag in a big cloud, they’re both coughing, gasping for breath. Neither of them are found by the time the sun comes up.

Almost as soon as day breaks, Melissa is awake, and hellbent on getting out of the hospital. She cannot lay here idly by while her four year old son is God knows where with her jackass of an ex-husband.

“I do not care!” she’s shouting at you. She winces is pain, but she doesn’t let the aching in her ribs put out her fire. “We have to find JJ!”

“What we have to do is get you to recount what happened last night, and then I need to find out how I’m supposed to take care of you while you recover,” you tell her as you lay a hand over hers.

“When are they going to get here?!” the redhead shouts.

“Hun, it’s…” you glance over at the clock. “6:45 in the morning. Give it time, and try to get another hour’s sleep, because once we get out, you won’t be getting the rest you need to anyway.”

She, in a fit of rage, slams her hand down on the call button on the remote attached to her bed. You close your eyes and take a deep breath at that action- so defiant. You wonder how she’s a second grade teacher sometimes, and this is a prime example.

The nurse comes in, and you just give her a sympathetic look as she’s yelled at in both English and Italian.

When the nurse leaves, somewhat terrified of what she just witnessed, Melissa just taps away on her phone before answering a call.

“Tommy, you better get your ass over here now to take my damned statement before I rip you a new one,” is what she hisses into the phone.

“Mel,” you grumble as you open one eye to look at her sleepily.

She just rolls her eyes and continues on her tirade in her second language. You don’t understand any of the words she’s saying, but you do know that she’s all but threatening this man’s life if he isn’t here in a flash.

And he is. Melissa gives her statement while the doctor comes in and explains to you her recovery plan.

“Three broken ribs is no joke, but there’s also unfortunately not a lot that we can do to help the healing process along,” he sighs as he rubs at the back of his neck. “For the first few days, icing it will help. As ridiculous as it sounds, we usually do recommend a frozen bag of peas because they’re easy to move and manipulate.”

You nod, taking notes on your phone.

“She shouldn’t sit or lay for extended periods of time, sleep sitting upright for the first few days- it’s best for her to keep moving when possible to help her breathe and clear the mucus from her lungs. If she has to cough, she should not suppress it. It will be painful for her, but we do suggest holding a pillow to her chest while she does to help absorb some of the blow. If we can prevent a chest infection, we should. And when her son is located, she should refrain from holding him as much as possible- straining herself is only going to make the recovery time that much longer.”

“How long is recovery time?”

“With the damage he did to her? I’d say four to six weeks, but that would only be if she’s taking care of herself. What does she do for work?”

“She’s a second grade teacher,” you sigh.

The doctor frowns, lines drawn into his forehead. “So I guess I should write her a doctor’s note to excuse her from work for the next few-”

“She’ll never agree to that,” you tell him. “She’s a single mother who is just doing her best to make it all work, and I can guarantee that she will want to leave her kids for that long.”

“If she’s constantly straining herself at work-”

“I can get attempt to get her to agree to teach from her chair,” you argue. “But that’s probably the best I can do.”

“I suppose that will have to do,” the doctor reluctantly agrees.

Meanwhile, JJ has woken up and is in the backseat crying, Joe passed out, who’s to say whether that be from the accident or the alcohol in his system, when a kinder gentleman who occupies the land takes note of the truck on his property. He slowly approaches it, but upon hearing the little boys wails, he picks up his pace, calling for his wife.

The woman runs up alongside of him, also speeding up when she hears the little boys loud cries. They glance into the car, and while the older man clocks the open bottle of vodka right away, the woman’s eyes go right to the little boy cowering in the backseat.

“Oh my god, Jerry,” JJ can hear. He all but curls into the backseat, terrified that whoever this is might take him even further from his momma. The door opens, and the little boy can feel a warm hand on his back- on that reminds him of his nonna’s. “Hi, sweet boy. You’re okay. You’re alright.”

JJ looks up, tears still pouring over his face, a thick trail of snot falling from his nose and into his mouth. “I want Momma!”

“Okay, honey,” the woman says softly. “We’ll get you to your momma. Can you tell me your name?” When he doesn’t respond, she says as gently as she can, “I’m Bev, this is my husband Jerry.”

“JJ,” is all the little boy offers up. She gives her husband a look and mouths, ‘9-1-1’. He trails a little further up the driveway to make the call.

“Is JJ your nickname?” Bev asks him. He nods. “What does it stand for?”

“Joe Jr.”

“And how old are you, sweetheart?”

“Four,” he whimpers out, but he holds up three fingers. The little one uncurls just slightly.

“Can I pick you up?” At JJ’s nod, she smiles softly and lifts him out of the seat. He cries out in pain at his shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers.

“Daddy pulled my arm,” JJ reveals softly. He lays his head on the woman’s shoulder, hoping to find some warmth and comfort- any warmth and comfort.

Jerry walks back up to the two. “They’ll be here as soon as they can.”

It’s a bit later that the police along with an ambulance show up and speak with the elderly couple and JJ. The older couple insists on riding to the nearest hospital with the little boy and his father.

Upon getting there, they ask the little boy basic questions.

“What’s your name?… How old are you?… Do you know these people that brought you here?… What happened?”

While all of this is happening, a few others work on Joe- and they find his license. Joseph Schemmenti… that name sounds-

“Is this the man that kidnapped his son after beating the living shit out of his ex-wife?” one of the cop’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god,” another gasps softly.

“Melissa,” you say softly as you drive the two of you back to your apartment complex.

“I. Am. Fine,” she grits out as she holds an icepack- one from the hospital, to her body. “I don’t even care right now. I just need to find JJ.”

“And we will,” you promise her. “We will find him.”

The redhead in the passenger seat starts to crack as she looks over to you. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

You take a shaky breath at that before uttering the words, “It won’t be.” She can tell that you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as you’re attempting to convince her.

By the time that they’re able to locate where the little boy is with the elderly couple, JJ’s shoulder has been set into place, they’ve tended to the burns from the seat belt, and Melissa has been contacted.

“Tommy, you better have-”

“We found him and Joe in a small town out by Lancaster,” the officer gets out quickly. “They’re at Lancaster General Hospital.”

The redhead nearly jumps off the couch, and you have to catch her as she stumbles. “Y/N! they have JJ! In Lancaster! We have to-“ she wheezes for breath, gripping at her ribs. “We have to go!”

“That- that’s over an hour away,” you tell her. “You can’t possibly make that trip right now- not in your-”

“We’ll be there,” Melissa says quickly into the phone before hanging up. She’s grabbing her keys and slipping her shoes on before you can get another protest out.

“You are not driving,” you practically rip the keys out of her hand. “And you are not-”

“This is my son we are talking about!” the woman shouts at you. “I do not care!”

Knowing you aren’t going to win this fight, you grab a pillow and guide her out to the car slowly.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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satellite-evans · 2 years

Text

Overprotective

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: Chris is being overprotective of his pregnant wife <3

Word count: 880 words

Warnings: just fluff

A/N: here is a quick blurb for you guys! I hope you all enjoy it. Please tell me what you think xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It was a Sunday evening in your Boston home you shared with your husband, that you started feeling bored. Ever since you got pregnant, the number of activities that you could do were limited not only by the pregnancy but also by your husband. Ever since he heard the news that you were having his baby and he was going to be a father, Chris was a whole new person. Not only was he mentally preparing to be the best version of himself, he was also trying to protect you and the baby from any type of harm that could occur.

“Umm, where do you think you’re going?” He asked you, with shocked eyes and fear in his tone, like you were going to a war.

“I’m going to the kitchen. Calm down. You don’t have to be so nervous all the time.” You laughed him off, thinking that it would be the end of the conversation, but Chris was still not done with you. He was very serious when he said that he would protect you from anything dangerous.

“Well, what if you accidentally burn your hand? Or bump your head into the wall? Y/N what if there is a piece of glass on the floor and you step on it? No. No no no no no, absolutely not. You stay here on the couch where it’s safe and I’ll make you whatever you want.”

And this continued during your whole pregnancy. Sometimes, you were worried that he was too focused on you and the baby, that he forgot he has his own life he should be focusing on. Neither of you were clingy people, but Chris became one after you got pregnant.

“Please, just gimme 5 more minutes.” Chris was supposed to be in a meeting with producers, but he was hugging his wife and kissing her belly, trying to feel the kicks of his baby.

“Chris, no, you aren’t supposed to be here right now. Go before your assistants get mad at me.” The last thing you wanted to do was hold Chris down and make him fall behind work. He was a dedicated actor you were proud of, and couldn’t wait to see more of his work.

“Please, if she even tries to talk to you with an attitude, she’ll be fired. No one gets to get mad at my wife.” A piece of you loved he was looking out for you and that he would die before anything happened to you and the baby, but you needed some alone time and Chris was working on your nerves.

“I swear to God if you don’t move your ass to the car and go that meeting right now, I will name our child after my great uncle. Go!”

Chris then stood up, hands in the air, brows furrowed, looking like you offended him.

“Okay, okay, I’m going. Jeez, I didn’t know I was such a burden.” After hearing his words, you rolled your eyes, once again witnessing how much of a baby your 41-year-old husband was.

“When did I say that, huh? Did such words ever leave my mouth? No. So stop acting like I treat you like a burden, baby.” You stood up and gave him a hug, and felt Chris put his head on yours.

“I love it so much, that you take care of us and protect us with so much care, but baby, you do it a lot. The baby and I won’t get hurt when we go to the kitchen or when we decide to go to the bathroom alone in the middle of the night. I get it, you’re nervous and you’re looking out for us, but doing too much is also not okay. You need to go out, interact with people, do your job, and me and the baby will be at home waiting for you. At this point, you are just spoiling us with all these hugs and kisses.” You finished your sentence with a laugh, which also made Chris laugh, above you. When you looked up, you saw he had glistering eyes, and a smile so perfect. The only thing you wanted was the best for him, just like he wanted for you.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry that I seem so overprotective, but I can’t help it. I wanted this life for so long, and now I have it. I don’t want to be without you guys, ever. I’m sorry that I seemed to be clingy these last couple of months. Just the thought of something happening to you or the baby is the worst scenario to ever exist.”

With your hormones being everywhere, any type of comment Chris made about you and the baby being so important to him, sounded like most emotional poet to your ears and you couldn’t help yourself but cry.

“Oh honey, noooooo. Don’t cry please. You’re gonna make me cry.” He took you in for a bear hug while he gave your head a few kisses.

“You’re just the best husband, the best father and the best friend any woman would've asked for. Thank you for being here and looking out for us. The baby and I love you and appreciate everything you do for us.”

“Love you guys more.”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #cevans #chris evans x wife!reader #dad!chris evans #dad!chris evans x mom!reader #chris evans fluff #fluff #evansedits #chris evans fic rec #chris evans characters #dad! chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x mom!reader #chris evans x y/n

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bat-writer · 11 months

Note

MAAM

we need a part 2 to the pregnant reader please and thank you 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Love your work btw!!!

A/N: i didnt think the lash would do so sweep but HERE WE GO! I also turned this into a mixture of head cannons and a regular fic

Warnings: descriptions of birth and delivery

You were actually overdue by a couple of days. Your baby was supposed to come during last week, but they decide to take their sweet time.

However, this meant it was just more strain on your body. Unfortunately I meant your back eight more your feet started to swell and you were honestly very ready to be over with the pregnancy.

The doctor had told you to move around as much as he can’t to try and get labor to start the barista shoes and wanted you to rest and not push yourself more than you had to

Finally on a rainy night you started to have contractions! It was felt more like a cramp and lasted for about a minute or so, so it was still a bit early

Bruce was up right away and ready to go but you stopped him

“Labor can take hours hun, especially for a first baby. Let’s wait it out a little bit and we can get going alright?”

You were WAY TOO CALM in this situation. Bruce was baffled. But, he listened to you and instead had asked Alfred to have the bags and car on standby for when you were ready

Bruce was very supportive and attentive to your every need. He’d squeeze your hips, massage your back and anything else thay would sooth the contractions

“Just let me know and we’ll be at the hospital in no time” he would whisper to you as he rocked you side to side

Once it was time for you to get to the hospital, he made a phone call that you were on your way. Of course, he was never wanted to be seen as someone who abused his power or his name, but in your case, he only wanted you to have the highest of quality in things

So he made sure to book the hospital suite with only the best labor and delivery nurses of your choice.

Yes, he actually printed out the resumes of the nurses in the hospital and let you choose😭😭

This is Bruce Wayne. Batman. This man was the embodiment of fear some wood, even say that he did not know what fear was very different. In fact, he’s never felt more fear than he does now looking at you. He knew that this is a process. The millions of women go through but he still couldn’t help but feel like a child not know what to do.

You were squeezing his hand and your eyes were squeezed shut while you were trying to ride out this contraction. Sure he’s seeing you during your period, and how it was painful, but this was a whole other situation where the pain continue to escalate, and all he can do right now to see if you was to give you support

Once you arrived at the hospital Bruce help you out of the car by one of the nurses rolled out a wheelchair for you to sit in. He followed the nurse closely as he try to keep a close eye on you if his predictions were correct, you should be about 4 to 5 cm dilated

“ your doctor should come in a few minutes to check on your dilation. Please feel free to get comfortable and hit the call button if you need anything.” the young nurse informed you as she rolled get you into your room, and handing Bruce your hospital gown. As he helps you to get dress he also takes time to admire. Of course, it was always tractor for him, but he was also admiring all the hard work you have done in the past nine months.

“ do I really look that bad that you’re staring at me that much?” You asked him

“ no, not at all. In fact, far from it” he said, with a smile when you kiss your forehead. “I’m just admiring my work is all” he quips

“Ha ha mister slick- oh oh ahhh” you he’s in pain as you lean on your husband for support. It was basically like leaning on a brick wall.

“That’s in just breathe. You doing great.” he tries to comfort you to which you respond.

“ easy for you to say…..you don’t have a babies head prodding…..at your vagina” you breathe out between

“ fair enough, darling. You’re right, but I know that you really are strong and you’ll get through this. The contraction lasted for about two more minutes. After that you felt completely zapped from energy. Bruce helps you get into bed in a few minutes later your doctor walks in.

“ hello Mrs. Wayne how are we doing today? Are we ready to have a baby“ she asks trying to lift the mood give her a very pinned thumbs up, and she completely understood. “ All right I’m gonna give you a quick check just to see how far we are in dilation.” She says before checking and measuring “ looks like you’re about 6 cm just 4 more to go! Let me or the nurses know if you need anything else. She dismisses herself from the room.

“Only 6?” You groan “ and here I was thinking that I was around 8” you chuckle

“ well, you said it yourself, these things take time, especially if it’s a first“ he then comes and sits next to you on the bed and brings you into his arms. You can always sense whenever you needed “tell me what is on your mind“

“… because this entire time I was kind of in a trance about the pregnancy. I didn’t really take time to reflect on what’s really happening“ he knew you way too well for you to try and fake it and say you were fine. So you had just came out with it “when I felt the first contraction that’s when it honestly started hitting me that it was time….. and that it’s really happening” you admit

“Yeah it is…” he said still just listening

“I Just….feel overwhelmed” you sniff as your eyes well with tears “i don’t know what I’m doing or what’ll be good or bad for the baby”

“ well let’s look at it this way you do amazing boys. You force moves. Are you awesome like a mother would. That doesn’t excuse your feelings and fears about becoming because it’s something scary.” he comforts you “ but you’ll have me and the boys every step of the way”

For the rest of the night you were going through the motions of each contraction. Your doctor came in every hour or so to check on you. the boys even stopped by while they were in patrol for the night! They said once the baby was born they’d come back to visit again. You really appreciate them for coming by and seeing you, it made it just a bit more bearable. You had made it up until 3:26 am when it was time to finally push.

Bruce held your hand as you pushed with any energy you had left. You had always heard about women who explain the birth story and how it was the worst pain they had ever felt. It’s not that you didn’t believe them but now you can completely confirm what they were saying. This had to be the most intense pain that ever felt in your life. You didn’t know if you wanted to cling onto Bruce and have him comfort you or curse out for him doing this to you.

Either way, he would have taken it because he knows you are in a position he could never really experienced. But he tried his best to support and comfort you through the process.

“ That was a good one you’re doing great” he’d encourage you as he wiped your sweaty forehead. He may have looked very calm and collected, and so he was absolutely freaking out. You were in immense pain, and he can virtually do nothing about it. Here you were in front of him, sweaty screaming, and crying. All he was doing was feeding you ice, chips, and water, and letting you squeezes hands. Take me as you want.

“ you’re almost there. I know you feel tired, but you’re almost there. It’s almost over.” in fact, was speaking half truths because you truly do not know how much longer until your baby was in the world with you.

“ I know this is difficult, but I know you’re stronger than this. On the next count push with everything you have.” of course yes remember you were married to Batman meaning he was gonna push you until you were successful. Course in a loving way because he just wants. And in this case it’s for your health, and the babies health.

“Aaaahh!” You push again and fall back on your pillow panting

“Breath hon, breath. You’re doing good” he encouraged you.

It took you about an hour and a half from that first push to get her out. You don’t think you would experience anything like labor and delivery again. While it was something scary, painful, excruciating…… It also turned out to be something wonderful.

You were in Gotham’s best hospital with your newborn baby girl laying on your chest. She was only taken off to be cleaned and weighed. She passed all of the health tests with flying colors. And from what the nurses say, she is a perfect baby. Bruce, of course following in observing their every move. he loves you so deeply and his love for you only grew more and now it is shared with the person that was made with that love. He really could not ask for more.

Bruce was absolutely gobsmacked. He didn’t know what to say or how to react he just felt this immense, warm happiness and relief in his chest.

“Look honey…we have a girl” you smiled tiredly “she’s so beautiful”

“She really is…you are incredible. I’m so proud of you.” He complimented you laying a soft kiss to your lips.

“Here, why don’t you hold her?” You said lifting up the tiny human for him to take a hold of. His large hands supported her tiny body. The same hands that were used to fight crime no carry the life that he had made with you out of love.

Funny enough, she had the pout you claimed he did and that Damien got from him. You know that he looked at it he has to agree she does have his pout. But it looked better on her than it did him. She was perfect. Especially her eyes. She has your beautiful Y/E/C eyes, his favorite thing to look at

“did you make up your mind on a name?” He asked as he sat in the chair next to your bed.

“Well i was thinking of one but I could decide if you would like it or not” you answer

“Anything you pick will be perfect”

“Well. I thought Ila (eye-la) would be nice”

“I agree it’s a very pretty name,” he agrees

“But.” You add “I want her to have a middle name”

“Ans that would be?”

“..Martha” you smile “Ila Marth Wayne”

“Y/N…really? He asked with wide eyes. You wanted your daughter to carry his mothers name?

“Of course hon. It’s the least I can do”

Bruce looked down into his hands and saw how the entire world and multiverse slept peacefully in his hands. His beautiful Ila.

She was another reason he caught and became better for create a better Gotham

~🐈‍⬛

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne x pregnant reader #batman #batman fanfiction #dc comics #batman x fem!reader

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wardenparker · 2 months

Note

You know I need me some Connie forehead kisses, so Detective Tim Rockford and “Wait! Don’t leave.”

I mean, there’s so many options so I’m tossin’ that one up there, but I’m also gonna say “Connie’s Choice”! You hit a massive milestone so you should getta celebrate however you see fit, darlin’.

Detective Tim Rockford and “____” <- You fill in the prompt.

*points to my forehead*

Right here! When you’re ready. No pressure. 😁😘🥰

My darling Dax 🧡 You get ALL the forehead kisses, but unfortunately also a very sad microfic.

Tim Rockford. 2,332 words. "Wait! Please don't leave!" Co-written with @absurdthirst Warnings: Explicit descriptions of crime scene, death, murder, domestic dispute (verbal), angst

The rain beats against the windshield, his knuckles tight against the steering wheel as the headlights slice through the inky black of the night. Tim doesn’t pay attention, he can’t. The blare of the police radio cuts through the silence in the car, his thoughts racing in circles as he drives as if he’s on autopilot.

Sharp winds whip around his car outside, an annoyance of white noise in the background that only makes his blood pressure rise when it shakes his little car. He knows the address he’s driving to. He knows it by heart.

******

“I just wish you would put me first once.” You express as he jams the loose items that are scattered across the dresser into his pockets. Two dollars and thirty-seven cents in change, a pocket knife, a losing scratch off ticket, a receipt from Jimmy’s Hot Dogs, a random mint, the ever present cigarette lighter and his wallet. The badge is tucked into his jacket, along with his car keys, hanging on the coat tree near the front door.

“I got a call.” He huffs, annoyed by the guilt that is settling on his shoulders. “You know the drill.”

“Can you even tell me the last time you ate dinner at home?” The last thing you want is to be cruel to him but you’re trying to make a point. Your husband of seven years and partner of ten has been slipping further and further from your fingers with every passing day and you’re at your wits end with how to get it to stop.

Your name is like a sigh of frustration and he pauses, turning tired eyes on you. He’s tired of the same arguments over and over again. “I’ll be back.” He tells you, turning and walking towards the door.

“Tim, wait!” The anguish that cracks your voice comes with tears — guilty, burning ones that you were trying not to let free. “Please don’t go.”

His resolve cracks and he turns, his hand on the door knob. “Babe, I have to go.” He doesn’t— not really. It’s not his case, but he feels like it’s connected to that fucking mystery that has taken over his life. As soon as he can solve it, he will fix this gully between the two of you. “I’ll be back in a few hours and we can talk, okay?” You don’t answer, but he takes that as your agreement. “I love you.”

“Be safe.” Unable to even bring yourself to say that you love him back — because you do, you absolutely fucking do but right now it feels like he’s just saying the words to placate you — you turn away and slip back into the kitchen. Tim is never home and you work a 9-5, so the chores pile up relentlessly. Maybe you’ll put dishes in the dishwasher and clothes in the dryer and go to bed early.

Walking out the door feels like he is fighting against himself, but the urge to close this case, to finish things off is too great to ignore. He pushes back the sight of your hurt face out of his mind and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. Walking towards his car, he’s not Tim, your husband, he’s changed into Detective Rockford.

******

“Detective Rockford?” The primary on the case is already there, and he wasn’t expecting back up. But the seasoned detective that he knows well is a welcome sight, even if Rockford doesn’t quite look himself.

“Hey Jimmy.” Tim gives a wan smile before looking towards the tape. “What do we got?”

The young detective has worked hard for his place on the force and seen plenty, but this one is a lot even for him. “Female. Forties. Stabbed to death in her own living room. Pretty gruesome stuff, honestly, and you know these things don’t usually get to me.”

Tim swallows, closing his eyes and swaying where he stands. “Do—” he chokes out and his voice falters. “Do we have the guy?” He manages after a moment, trying not to cry right there.

“We have tire tracks, finger prints, and plenty of detritus under the vic’s fingernails. She fought hard.” Jimmy shuffles, not used to seeing his mentor this emotional. “Some of the wounds look defensive. And the weapon was left at the scene.”

His lip trembles and he inhales sharply. “Are you— are you sure it’s the homeowner?” He asks shakily, praying for a miracle.

“ID in her purse matches.” The younger man confirms. “Seems like she had barely gotten home. Might’ve been a robbery gone bad, but we need to take a more thorough look before that call gets made.”

Tim shakes his head, body trembling and he screams out your name, rushing towards the house. “Baby! Baby, come out!” He shouts, ducking under the tape and bolting through the door. “Sweetheart? Baby? Answer me!”

“Detective Rockford!” Jimmy swirls to run after him, not understanding what’s caused such a monumental break in his colleague’s behavior. Obviously he knows the victim, otherwise it makes even less sense.

Tim can’t stop, doesn’t even hear Detective Fallon as he rushes into the house and over to the body that is draped in a white sheet, the thick material slowly being soaked red with blood. Choking as he drops to his knees, he reaches up to draw the sheet back.

“Ma’am, you really can’t be—” Detective Fallon’s voice is part of a sea of white noise, unheard and unnoticed by Tim as he reaches for the corner of the sheet he absolutely shouldn’t be touching. “Ma’am, this is an active crime scene!”

But you don’t hear him, blasting past the young detective to stumble into your own living room, where the figure of your sister is crumpled in the middle of the carpet and covered in a sheet. “Get away from her!” Is all you can think to say, burning tears choking anything but fear and anguish out of existence.

Your voice makes him freeze, head whipping up to see you and his eyes widen. Choking out your name, he then whispers— “Is it— are you?”

“Tim?” He’s the last person you ever expected to see again, let alone in this house, but suddenly you’re actually glad for it. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, but you’re shaking with fear for the reality of who is under that sheet.

You are alive. His eyes dart back to the sheet and he looks back at you with a small frown. “You’re here.” He breathes out, immediately understanding. Since the divorce, you had lived with your sister. He stands and moves over towards you. “Baby.” He knows this will hurt you and he wants to take away the pain if he can.

“Is that…” You don’t have to finish the question. The boot poking out from under the sheet is the pair she borrowed from you, and the blood spattered purse with an evidence tag next to it is so familiar you would know it in your sleep. “She accidentally grabbed my purse when she left for work this morning.” You choke out the explanation but lurch forward when your knees buckle and your heart squeezes up into your throat. “Was it—were they—was it supposed to be me?”

“I don’t know.” You are about to break, he’s witnessed enough families to know. Stepping closer, he strokes your arm and looks into your beautiful, devastated eyes. “I don’t know baby, but I’m going to find them. I’m going to find who did this.” He promises.

******

The fluorescent lights of the station are harsh and the coffee in your hand is burnt, but it's better than being in your house. At this point you doubt you can ever go back there again and you're definitely trying to figure out where you're going to go or what you're going to do once you leave the station.

Tim comes back with a bottle of water for you, offering it to you when he walks up, and exchanges it for the coffee that you aren’t really interested in. “Preliminaries look like it was a mugging/burglary gone wrong.” Tim tells you quietly, aware that he probably shouldn’t say anything about this, period, but this is your sister. And you used to be his wife. “Camera footage from the neighbors show that the suspect approached her when she opened the door.”

"I don't–" Your head bobs in thanks when he takes the coffee from your hands and replaces it with the water bottle, though you still don't do anything but hold it. For your whole life you were always the person to be able to take charge and provide comfort in a crisis. Now that the crisis is your own, you're drawing a blank. "Will they let me go back? For–for clothes and stuff, I mean? I need to find a hotel..."

Tim grimaces. “It’s….still a crime scene.” He tells you reluctantly. “No one goes in right now.” He bites his lip, knowing that the DA would be pissed, but he would log a record of it in the case file. “If you want to make a list, I could get you some things.” He wants to offer to let you stay with him, in the old house you used to share, but that might be too much for you.

"No, I...I don't want you to get in trouble for me." There are strict rules for crime scenes. You were a cop's girlfriend and then wife for long enough to know that. "I can just get some stuff from Target tomorrow. Temporary stuff..."

“I can.” He offers, squatting down to look at you. “Do you have a friend…a boyfriend, where you can stay with them?” He asks, even if the idea makes him sick. He lost you, he has no right to be upset if you’ve moved on. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

"No." For as long as you and Tim were together, he knows you never really had an extensive circle of people close to you. You're an introvert and most of your friends were either his coworkers or the spouses of those coworkers. The friends you made in college have all gone their separate ways by now, and you had had your best friend in your sister. "No it's just Liz and me..." It was just the two of you, anyway.

Tim sighs softly and his brow furrows in concern. “You can— you don’t have to— but, you can stay with me.” He offers, unsure of how you would take his offer. You had told him during the divorce that you couldn’t wait to be done so you would never have to see him again, and circumstance had changed that. He still hasn’t told you he hadn’t had to be at that crime scene. He had just memorized your address and when it came over the radio, his heart had dropped.

"Wouldn't you get in trouble?" That has to be a conflict of interest or something, but the idea of being safe tonight has you shaking all over again when you suddenly jolt at the memory of why you even need safety in the first place.

“No.” Tim shakes his head. “You aren’t a suspect, never were. And the captain knows who you are.” He wants to reach out and wrap his arms around you, keep you safe, but he doesn’t want to overstep. “Or I can get you a hotel. Wherever you want.”

For maybe the first time since you walked into your house to see him standing there, you actually look up a little and meet Tim's eyes. "I don't think I should be alone, either," you admit quietly.

His heart breaks at the loss in your eyes, the sense that you are adrift and unsure of your course. He nods. “Then you don’t have to be alone, sweetheart.”

"There's not...not anyone at home who would be upset?" You have no business being upset if there is – after all you're the one who filed for divorce, not him – but you still stop your hand for reaching for him when it's halfway out.

He doesn’t miss the gesture and reaches out to take your hand. “No.” He promises. “Just a really lazy cat named Twix.” He licks his lips, heart pounding at the touch of your skin against his and he pushes those feelings down. He just means to comfort you. “No one since you left. Your blanket is still on the couch.”

“I—” There's no reason to refuse, and you're a little too shell-shocked at the moment to know whether or not you could actually manage all the logistics of a hotel on your own. Besides – again – the idea of being alone doesn't sit well with you. "Thank you." you manage finally, gripping his hand tightly in gratitude.

“You’re welcomed.” He knows he should get you home, his home, and he squeezes your one last time before letting it go. “Let me go finish up for the night, and we’ll get you settled.”

"Wait." Your hand tightens instinctively, holding him beside you. "Please don't leave?" Even in a room full of bustling people doing their jobs, without Tim beside you, you feel completely alone. And even though you know he has to do his job, you just – you need that comfort for a few minutes more.

It’s the same words that have haunted him for years, the ones you had uttered one desperate night that he had disregarded, signaling the end of your relationship. He regretted that night in the middle of the lonely nights that followed, wishing that he could somehow go back, do things different. He can’t change the past, but he can show you the compassion you need. Shifting to his knees in front of you, Tim looks up at you, his eyes wider than normal as he gives you his promise. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Tim Rockford #Tim Rockford x you #Tim Rockford x reader #Tim Rockford x female reader #Tim Rockford x f!reader #angst #murder #this microfic contains death

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gennyanydots · 2 years

Text

Kindergarten Failure

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

Companion piece to “Spitfire”

part of the ‘spitfire universe’

An: the jealousy fic nobody asked for!

Phoenix has been getting on Jake’s nerves. Always asking about the next time you’ll come out with the pilots. When she can come over. Why you actually don’t come out all the time. (Apparently you telling her he needed to be the prettiest wherever he is wasn’t a good enough answer) Truth is you’re not one to go out much. You keeping your bar fights to once a month was because that’s how often you went out. Sure you go out more with Jake like to dinner and things but out out is a different thing entirely.

Jake is the extrovert out of the two of you. Quite obviously. He loves being out. He thrives off the attention. He loves being in public. He also loves you and knows that you need to stay in more than he does. He respects that. He always offers to bring you places with him just in case but often you decline. If he stays out late he tries to DoorDash you some treat to make sure you know he’s thinking of you. He knows the way to your heart. He’s had it long enough.

It was Friday night once again and now that Penny was back everyone had resumed their normal routine. After a long day of work going out and getting a few beers while playing pool and darts is exactly how the dagger squad liked to unwind.

Jake had told you they were going out. He never wants you to worry where he might be. He’d also told you about Phoenix needing some more girl time. Halo is nice and all but even two girls compared to ten guys still skewed the ratio.

You hadn’t had a bad day. You were feeling pretty good so you figured why not give Phoenix what she wants so badly. You headed home after work to jump in the shower and get ready knowing the pilots were just heading straight to the bar after work. They all showered at work and you didn’t have that luxury. You threw on a cute but casual outfit and got in your car to head towards the Hard Deck.

As soon as you walk in you hear the call of your name from the pool tables and you smile and wave at Phoenix who looks practically giddy as you walk over.

“Hangman didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Yeah well I don’t tell him everything. Gotta keep him on his toes.”

You feel a hand brush against your waist as it settles on the opposite hip pulling you into a hard body. A kiss placed on the crown of your head as you snuggle into your husband’s side.

“Well shit. Now I’m not the prettiest at this bar anymore. Guess I gotta go find a new bar,” Jake says with a chuckle.

You look up at him, “Is it hard being in second place? I wouldn’t know.”

“When first place looks this good? I’m surprised I even made second place,” he says with a wink.

You playfully roll your eyes and bump your shoulder into his side. He leans down to kiss your head once again and squeezes you once as he lets go to head towards Coyote who is standing near the darts board looking around.

“Okay so now you have to tell me all about being married to Hangman!” Phoenix says excitedly. “Is he cocky all the time? Has he always been like that? Are you late to everything because you have to drag him away from the mirror?”

You laugh, “Yes. Yes. And no if we’re ever late it’s my fault because I can’t be on time to save my life. Most often he tells me we have to be somewhere a half hour before we actually have to be there because that’s usually the only way I’ll be on time. If he had it his way we would be there the half an hour before we have to be there that he tells me. He likes to be early everywhere. All that ‘if you’re early then you’re on time. If you’re on time then you’re late.’ bullshit.”

Phoenix nods her head, “Yeah the Navy will do that to you. Do you want to grab a drink?”

“Yes please!”

You both head towards the bar and grab a drink, on your husband’s tab, then head to a high top table and sit chatting.

After some time the bar gets more crowded. More and more bodies are packed it. You catch Jake’s eye a couple times to check in with each other, you always smiling at him to let him know you’re fine and he always winking at you as he grins. This time he holds up his beer bottle and mouths “Another?” and you nod. He heads towards the bar and waits his turn patiently.

“So why did Coyote only know about you?,” Phoenix asks when you turn your attention back to her.

You shrug, “I met Javy a long time ago. Back when Jake and I were just dating. I met him first when Jake graduated from the academy and then again when they were both at Top Gun originally I had come to visit and stayed the week they graduated. Javy came to our wedding.”

“I am insulted that I wasn’t invited,” Phoenix teases.

“I didn’t know you! It was also pretty small. And rushed. Jake and I were sick of being long distance so we quickly got married so I could stay with him when he’s stateside.”

“Well I’m sure even if it was rushed it was beautiful,” Phoenix says.

You smile remembering the day, “It really was. You’ll have to come over soon and look at pictures. You’ll love the one where I smashed cake in Jake’s face.”

Phoenix grins, “Now that I have to see!”

You grin back and look over towards your husband seeing if he had made any progress at the busy bar. You raise an eyebrow as you see a woman talking to your husband. You can tell by Jake’s body language he doesn’t want to be in the conversation but the woman doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“So we going to handle that or let him flounder for a minute,” Phoenix asks.

You chuckle, “Give it a minute. If she continues then I guess it’s time to party.”

Phoenix nods and you both continue to watch the scene unfold.

The woman takes her hand and places it on Jake’s chest. His hands immediately go up in surrender.

You’re on your feet in an instant pushing your way through the crowd.

You come up behind Jake wrapping an arm around his waist and shoving the woman’s hand off his chest, “Hi. Did you fail kindergarten? You don’t touch things that aren’t yours. Thanks.”

The woman smirks at you pulling her hand back, “You sure you didn’t fail? Sharing is caring. You weren’t here. Clearly your man was lonely. I’m more than happy to keep him company.”

Jake whistles lowly and says to you, “You promised once a month.”

“I know what I promised but that was before this,” you hiss back at him.

“Trouble in paradise? I can promise you, sweetheart, that I will never be a problem. I can be so good for you,” the woman says towards Jake.

Jake chuckles and looks back towards the woman, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

The woman looks confused, “My loss? What do you mean?”

You smile and side step away from Jake, “He means this.” Your hand shoots up to the back of the woman’s head as you grip her hair tightly and pull her head back. “You’re going to leave this bar and you’re never coming back here. You’ll regret it if you do. Now we are going to walk nicely outside and you’re going to leave.”

The woman winces, “Okay!”

You pull her along towards the door then shove her outside.

“Fucking bitch!” the woman says as she stumbles outside.

“You’ll be smart to remember that!” You call as you watch her walk to her car then turn around heading back inside.

You see Jake at the bar holding your drink which he hands to you when you reach him. He uses his now free hand to pull you towards him then wraps his arm around you.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re possessive?” Jake asks with a chuckle.

“Anyone ever tell you to shut up?” You quip back.

“Every goddamn day of my life.”

#jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #Jake hangman Seresin x reader #spitfire #hangman x female!reader

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