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#and then i don’t have a place to be safe from it
joelsgreys · 2 days
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a safe haven l ten
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.
word count: 5k
a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?
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“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”
Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.
“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”
“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”
He shakes his head in utter exasperation.
“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”
Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.
Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.
Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”
He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.
Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.
Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.
Exactly how far had Luke taken it?
Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?
Until you almost lost complete consciousness?
Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?
Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?
Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.
This shouldn’t have happened.
He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.
This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.
“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.
His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.
Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.
But can you honestly fault him for that?
How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?
Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.
And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.
He should have done something.
Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.
“Joel—”
“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.
Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.
“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”
With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”
“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.
“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”
“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.
Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.
His brother wouldn’t believe it.
“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.
Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.
Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”
“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.
“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”
Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.
“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”
Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”
He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”
She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”
“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”
He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.
“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”
He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”
“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”
“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”
Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”
“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.
“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”
“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”
“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”
Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”
Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.
“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”
He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”
She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”
Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 
“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”
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“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.
“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”
She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”
Moments later, you both hear the shower going.
“Little shit,” he grumbles.
You exhale an amused huff through your nose.
Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”
Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”
“Runnin’ you a bath.”
You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”
“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”
You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“I’m capable of washing myself—”
“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”
That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.
“But your hand—”
“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”
Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.
“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.
Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.
Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”
You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.
“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”
You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.
He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.
As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.
“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?
The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.
Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.
“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”
“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”
He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.
You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.
“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”
A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”
He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”
Home.
You’re home.
He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.
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It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.
He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.
“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.
“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”
“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”
You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”
“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”
“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”
Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”
Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.
“I—I’m not too sure.”
“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”
Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”
“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”
“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”
“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”
“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”
She disappears, closing the door behind her.
“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”
“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”
Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.
“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”
“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”
Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.
“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”
Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.
“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.
He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.
Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”
Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.
You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Joel? What’s the matter?”
“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.
“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.
Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”
“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”
Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.
You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.
Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.
Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”
“You’re going to build the crib?”
He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”
“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”
“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”
You fall silent.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”
He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”
His declaration comes with natural ease.
And so does yours.
“I love you too, Joel.”
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spaceclefairy · 3 days
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Keep that Coffee Hot
You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.
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When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone. 
You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business. 
And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.
This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams. 
“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.
“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”
You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly. 
“That's because I'm the client this time.”
“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”
You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”
“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.
Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.
“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”
The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”
“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”
The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”
“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”
You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.
The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”
You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”
“Sure am, darlin’.”
You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.
The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Then what do you say?”
You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”
“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”
You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”
Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.
The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town. 
You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.
The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”
You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”
“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”
You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”
His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”
You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets. 
He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.
“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”
You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.
“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”
The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.
The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you. 
“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”
He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”
You smirk. “That, too.”
He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”
“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”
The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”
The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.
You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.
You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.
He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”
“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”
The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.
You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.
After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”
The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”
You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”
He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”
“Try me.”
“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”
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bellasprettywords · 3 days
Text
A different way to say I love you (Spencer Reid x Reader)
As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person
My masterlist
Warnings: Little mentions of alcohol and overall fluff
Word count: 1,037 (ish because there are emojis)
y/n – your name
Gender-neutral reader
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The first time Spencer Reid told you he loved you, he didn’t do it with words…
It was Penelope’s birthday and the whole gang went out clubbing. You were a little more drunk than you normally would’ve liked considering you were out with your bosses, and your best friend who at the same time was the man you loved: Spencer Reid. Spencer was on y/n watch duty, considering he has always been protective of you, that he didn’t drink much, and that public settings like clubs made him on edge.
“We should get going, sweetie” you heard Spencer whisper in your ear
“I don’t wanna go yeeeet, I feel like daaancing” you said standing from the barstool and pulling Spencer’s arm into the dancefloor
“Woah woah, I’m not much of a dancer” he said nervously
“Just relax, let me lead you” you said as you placed his hands on your waist and danced wrapped around the arms of the man you loved from a distance. After a couple of hours, you were beat, so finally agreed to Spencer’s suggestion and accepted to share a cab with your best friend.
The two of you were in the back of the taxi, your head leaning on your best friend’s shoulder and you could perfectly smell the intoxication scent of wood, musk, and a little of alcohol that more than one person had spilled over Spencer at the club. You were holding hands, which wasn’t weird, as you pretty much had gotten Spence used to physical touch, and since he had become comfortable with it, the two of you were always touching some part of each other
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asked, tilting his head so he could get a better looked at you
“Yeah, I’m just a little tired” you said giving Spencer a small smile, there was something conforming about being there, next to each other, just softly caressing each other, without saying anything. At that moment, you felt Spencer squeezing your hand softly three times.
Spencer helped you up to your apartment, you were still tipsy from the night out, and he wanted to make sure you got safely to bed. Stumbling, Spencer opened the door of your apartment, and helped you in
“Let’s get you to bed, sweetie” Spencer said chucking at the sight of you walking through your furniture, trying not to stumble
“Thank you for taking such good care of me” you said, gifting Spencer a lazy smile
“Come on, we have to tuck you in” Spencer said leading you into your room, the same room he had been at least a thousand times, at the end of the day, being your best friend meant constantly coming over
“Wait, I have to get on my jammies” you said pulling away from Spencer
“Alright, I’m going to leave you for a while, so you can get changed” he said, leaving your room, closing the door behind him, and feeling his cheeks getting red and hot at the thought of you changing.
You were taking off your pants, when you stumbled and fell to the side of your bed; and with the sound of the stumble, Reid entered your room swiftly, helping you up
“Are you okay?” Spencer looked concerned, scanning your body trying to make sure you were alright after the stumble
“I’m fine, you shouldn’t worry too much, mighty Doctor Reid” you said, burying your face into Spencer’s neck and chuckling at the situation. Spencer was now sitting on your bed, with your pantless body plastered over his, at this moment, you were just inches from his lips, and you could feel his eyes, scanning your face, and body
“Come on, let me help you get changed” Spencer said gulping loudly, feeling his cheeks burning up
“Fine, you can help me, but no peaking” you said and both of you shared a laugh, as Spencer helped you get into your pjs
“I’m going to head out” Spencer said standing next to the door frame of your bedroom
“Don’t leave just yet, lay down with me for a little while” you pleaded Spencer making room on your bed for him
“I’ll stay, but only for a little while, I have to get back home” he said, taking off his shoes and getting into bed with you. You could feel Spencer’s arms around you, caressing you and making you feel safe
“Can I ask you something?” you said, turning to him so you could face him
“Of course, anything for you” he replied fixing a strand of your hair
“Why do you squeeze my hand three times? It’s not the first time I feel you doing it” you asked, and you felt Spencer’s hand reach to you
“It means: I. Love. You” Spencer said, squeezing your hand one time per word
“In that case: I. Love. You. Too” you replied, squeezing Spencer’s hand four times
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Life was great for Doctor Spencer Reid lately, his social abilities had increased, you were finally a couple after quite a while of pining over each other, and he was finally feeling like he fit in somewhere. Nonetheless, anxiety was an immense part of Spencer Reid’s life. Especially because working at the BAU, his genius mind would constantly speed, and sometimes, without even realizing it, he would spiral into horrific scenarios. Sure,
You were on a briefing. JJ and Hotch were explaining the details of the new case you’d work on, and you could tell something was off with Spencer. When cases involved children, he’d get overly anxious, and as you were holding hands, you could feel his palms getting sweatier and sweatier. You didn’t want to give away the fact that Spencer was struggling with coping as the case was being revising, so you did the one thing you knew would make him feel better:
You squeezed his hand three times; and when you felt him squeezing your hand four times in return, you searched for Spencer’s eyes, and once you found them, you gave him a reassuring smile, just to let him know everything would be okay.
The meeting ended and Spencer and you left the room together, to prepare your bags as Hotch called wheels on 30 minutes. Spencer and you were picking your stuff from your adjacent desks when you heard him saying:
“I always hoped I would be lucky enough to find someone who I could say “I love you”, even when words are too much”
"I love you too, Spence" you said, placing a soft kiss on your boyfriend's lips before departing
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worldlxvlys · 1 day
Note
I have a request, if you’re taking them
can you do a dwb!Matt where reader relapses badly, and he has to help her through her withdrawals
if not that’s totally cool, but I’m a sucker for angsts so I thought I’d ask
help you
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dealer! matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, drug addiction/ withdrawals, mentions of nausea, cursing
a/n -> please read with caution !!
i love you all and my dms are always open if you need to talk <33
MATT’S POV
“i’m fine, matt” she said for what had to be the millionth time.
she smacked my hand away with her own, while she attempted to pour water into a cup with her free one.
her hands were so shaky, she could barely get any of it in the cup. she let out a frustrated sigh, setting the pitcher down onto the counter.
“here” i spoke as i poured the water for her, handing her the glass.
“you hungry?” i asked as i grabbed a paper towel, cleaning up the spill.
“no” she spoke, moving her arm to her forehead to wipe the sweat that began to accumulate.
“when’s the last time you ate something?” i asked her.
“can we turn down the heat?” she asked, continuing to wipe her sweaty skin.
“the heat isn’t on, here” i spoke as i grabbed a washcloth, soaking it in cool water. i folded the washcloth in half, guiding her to sit down on the couch.
she placed the washcloth on her forehead, laying her head back with a sigh.
“is there anything you actually want to eat?” i asked, moving back towards her refrigerator. i was aware that she didn’t have an appetite, but she hadn’t eaten all day long.
“no, matt. i just don’t want to feel like this, i wanna go back to normal” she replied. “how long is this gonna last ? i don’t think i can take much more of this”
“hey, it’s ok. i’m gonna help you through this” i spoke as i made my way back to her, a granola bar in hand.
“no, you don’t get it. i feel like i’m dying, matt. my entire body aches, the thought of food makes me nauseous, i’m covered in sweat, and i’ve never felt weaker in my life. you wanna help? let me take something, anything. please, i need it matt” she looked at me with her eyes slightly widened, clutching onto my shirt.
i’d never seen her look so helpless.
“you know i can’t do that, baby” i spoke, grabbing her hand. “i’m gonna run you a bath, ok? how hot do you want the water?” i asked her.
“a bath isn’t gonna do shit, matt. you know what i need. let me take something or leave me alone”
“i’m trying to help you-” i started, quickly being cut off, “help me? you did this to me. this is your fault. tell me, what do you think happens when you sell drugs to people? do you know how many people you’ve made just like me? you’re no saint, matt. you’re actively helping people ruin their lives”
she didn’t mean it. of course, she didn’t . she’d say anything to get her fix. but that didn’t make her words hurt any less.
she wasn’t telling me anything i hadn’t told myself before. and i hated that i let her end up like this. she was right, this was my fault.
i should’ve done a better job at protecting her, at keeping her safe. i couldn’t do anything about failing in the past, but i damn sure could prevent it from happening in the future.
“you’re right, this is my fault. but letting you erase your progress now would only end up hurting you more in the long run. the only way i can help you is by being here for you. so you can yell at me, be mad at me, be annoyed with me, i don’t care. i’m not going anywhere, okay?”
instead of saying anything she just blinked up at me, nodding her head gently.
“now, how hot do you want your bath water?”
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dwb! matt masterlist
main masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
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jromanoff · 2 days
Text
Nightmare II R. George
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warning(s): bus accident, mentions of trauma and therapy
Authors note: something short and cute for you all :)
Summary: Regina has a nightmare about the accident.
Word count: 1.1k
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Regina and Cady burst through the doors of the school’s main entrance, their voices echoing through the hallways. The other students followed them outside, eager to witness the encounter between two of the popular girls at North Shore (and film it, of course). Regina stormed away from the school, still shouting at Cady, when suddenly, a vivid yellow blur hurtled towards her from the periphery of her vision.
Regina shot awake as the bus was about to hit her. She immediately shot upright in bed, breathing heavily. Her forehead covered in a small layer of sweat. Who knew Regina George could sweat?
As Regina felt the weight of the blanket on her lap she knew she was safe, in bed. It was a nightmare- it wasn’t real. Not again.
“Gina?” you spoke sleepily as you woke up due to all the movement from Regina’s side.
“Go back to sleep,” Regina said, her voice slightly trembling. She quickly used the blanket to rid herself of the sweat on her forehead. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but Regina wouldn’t let them. She didn’t want to worry her girlfriend.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you turned around in bed to face your girlfriend. Due to the darkness, you could only make out her form sitting upright on the bed as her face was turned away from you. Regina then looked over at you and spoke, “It’s nothing, baby. Just a stupid nightmare. Nothing to worry about.”
You, however, could sense that Regina was more affected by this ‘stupid’ nightmare than she let on. You knew she was trying to keep it together instead of breaking in front of you.
"I know it isn’t nothing, Regina. It's okay to admit when something’s wrong, you know?” you said softly while sitting up and placing a gentle hand on Regina's shoulder. As you looked into Regina's eyes, you could see the tears she was holding back.
Regina's facade cracked for just a moment, her eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty before she quickly regained her composure. "It was a moment of weakness," Regina spoke dismissively, her tone firm as she tried to reclaim her usual confidence.
Her sudden change of tone left you even more confused. It was suspicious. You wondered what could be bothering Regina so much. Determined to find out, you didn't want to pressure her into telling you. Instead, you hoped she would explain once she calmed down. Her body language suggested she was on high alert at the moment.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, baby. Please tell me what’s wrong.” you said as you rubbed Regina’s shoulder, hoping it would help to ground her.
Regina's dismissive facade crumbled at your words, revealing the vulnerability she was trying so hard to conceal as a single tear fell from her eye. “Okay, maybe my dream did freak me out a little." Regina admitted and sighed. Your heart broke at the sight of your sad and crying girlfriend. She didn’t deserve this.
You wrapped your arms around Regina, pulling her close in a comforting embrace. “It's okay, Regina," you murmured softly. "You don't always have to be tough, or whatever. Everyone has moments when they’re not okay. Even the queen bee. And that’s perfectly fine." you reassured your girlfriend as you felt her tears wetting your shirt.
Regina leaned into the embrace, allowing herself to be vulnerable for just a moment. “I just... I don't like feeling powerless and weak," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as you gently wiped away some stray tears from her cheeks.
“You're not powerless or weak, Regina. You're a strong, intelligent and powerful woman. Being vulnerable doesn’t invalidate those qualities." you offered words of reassurance and empowerment to your girlfriend.
Regina let out a shaky breath, grateful for the support of her girlfriend. Right now, she allowed herself to let go of the facade and embrace the comfort of being vulnerable with the person she trusted the most.
Silence engulfed the room as the two of you hugged, Regina’s head resting on your shoulder. Allowing herself to relax in your arms, Regina’s breathing slowly got back to normal.
“I dreamed about the accident,” Regina admitted quietly, breaking the silence. This made you frown, the accident was months ago.
“Is this the first time you had a nightmare about the accident?” you questioned.
Silence followed your question. That gave you everything you needed to know. “It’s not, is it?” you sighed “You need to tell me when these things happen, Regina.” you told her, hugging her a little tighter at this confession. Now that you knew about your girlfriend's nightmares, you were rightfully worried about her.
Regina nodded against your shoulder, a weight lifting from her chest as she finally shared her burden with you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to worry you and be a burden to you,” she murmured.
“It’s okay, Gina,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m here for you, always. You’ll never be a burden to me.”
Regina squeezed you tightly, her gratitude evident in the way she clung onto you like a koala. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.
“We should try and get some more sleep, don’t you agree?” you asked Regina, pulling away from the embrace, causing Regina to whine at the loss of contact.
“Will you hold me?” Regina asked, her voice hopeful. As if you’d ever deny her.
“Of course, my love,” you smiled and laid back down on the bed. “C’mon, lay down,” you said, patting your chest.
Regina didn’t hesitate to lay down, snuggling into your chest. She sighed in content as she found a comfortable position on your chest.
“Goodnight, my love,” you murmured softly, feeling her relax against you as you rubbed small circles on her back.
“Goodnight, baby,” Regina replied, her voice laced with warmth and affection.
As you thought about your girlfriend, you realized she probably needed to go to therapy to deal with the trauma of the accident. However, you decided that it was something you'd discuss with her tomorrow. She’d probably refuse, but you were determined to try nonetheless. Until then, you’d try to support her to the best of your ability. Now it was time to get some rest.
It didn’t take long before the two of you dozed off. This time, Regina slept peacefully and dreamed about her girlfriend- and so did you.
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chahnniesroom · 1 day
Text
to have and to hold
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!
a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 
Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.
Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.
“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”
“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.
“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”
“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”
“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 
“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”
“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”
“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”
Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.
Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.
Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 
When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.
“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.
“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”
Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.
Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,
some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.
He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.
“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.
Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.
“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”
“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”
Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.
“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”
He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.
 It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.
“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”
By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.
Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.
When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 
After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.
Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.
When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.
That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 
“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”
“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”
“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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sweetestdesire · 7 hours
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3:28AM
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader wakes up Quinn Hughes with a very important question at three in the morning.
“Hey.” Y/N poked Quinn’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble underneath her cheek. “Quinn?” She shoved his chest, making him groan as his arms tightened around her. His upper body was bare, and the warm skin against hers felt like home, but it was simply not enough to have her go to sleep. “Quinn, wake up. C’mon.” She insisted, each word was spoken with a poke to his rib cage, and Quinn hissed, rolling over in bed to turn away with his back to her.
“No.” He mumbled sleepily. His voice was low, words slurred in his tired state, but it did little to break her resolve. She simply poked his back instead.
“Quinn, it’s important.” Y/N whispered urgently. He waited a few moments before ultimately grumbling as he gave in, turning to face her as his eyes glared at her while he rubbed the sleep out of them.
“What? What is it?” Quinn asked, his voice flat.
“Okay, so.” Y/N grinned. Quinn raised an eyebrow, and he didn’t like where this was heading even if he didn’t exactly know where this was heading. “If we were like, I don’t know, forbidden lovers or something, and we had to run away to be together, where would you wanna go?”
“It’s three in the goddamn morning, Y/N.” Quinn groaned, rubbing his face exasperatedly with his hand. Peering at her from the side, he exhaled at her pout. “Don’t make that face at me. Okay, you know what? Go ahead.”
Quinn always gave in when it came to her, and at times like these, it concerned him a little just how far he’d go for her. That much control in her hands over him couldn’t be good, but still, he trusted her. Blindly, with no doubts, Quinn always trusted her. Although, right now, he was second-guessing his choices.
“Okay, as I was saying,” Y/N huffed, “if we had to run away to be together, where would you wanna go?”
Quinn was tired and cranky, and his muscles ached, and his eyelids were the heaviest they’ve been with sleep, but still, he sighed before pondering over an answer for her question. And it was sweet, really, how he always indulged her in her mindless thoughts, no matter how pointless or how late. He always had a soft spot for her, and even if he rethought his choices sometimes, he couldn’t ever bring himself to regret them.
“Like... to another country?” Y/N hummed in confirmation. “Then I guess France.” He mumbled.
Resting her chin on his chest, Y/N peered up at him, his arm curling around her and pulling her closer. “How come?”
“So that I can push you off that big ass tower and finally get a good night’s sleep.” Quinn grunted, closing his eyes with a yawn.
Scowling, Y/N slapped his chest, making him scowl back. They both glared half-heartedly at each other, his eyes boring into hers. And he had to be up soon, but all thoughts of rest were whisked away for a moment when he caught a glimpse of her in the dark room, nothing but the moon offering any sort of light.
“Well, I wouldn’t run away with you if you treated me like that.” Y/N muttered, adding, “Jerk.” after a few moments just to ensure she got her point across.
Quinn snickered, and his arm tightened its grip on her. He felt safe because he always spoke through his actions, no matter how big or small. The way his arms grasped her, how they always kept her in place, right by his side spoke figures. His love was pure, it was raw, and it was real. She cracked a smile at his chuckles, the soft sound melting her heart and then some.
“I’m kidding, baby.” Quinn grinned, softly pecking her forehead. “I wouldn’t blow all that money on a plane just to push you off a building. I can do that anywhere.”
Rolling her eyes at how pleased he seemed at his answer, Y/N grabbed a loose strand of hair resting on his forehead, twirling the ends as she hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, if you’re about done with the shitty jokes.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know that they're not shitty.” He grumbled, poking a finger at her side.
“Why else do you wanna go there?” He shrugged, mindlessly stroking her back with his palm, looking off out the window.
“I don’t know. Isn’t it supposed to be like a romantic place?” Y/N stared at him for a moment, blinking, and for a second, he wondered if he said something wrong. And then she broke into a fit of giggles, making him stare at her bewildered as a soft blush dusted over his cheeks.
“Oh, Quinny.” Y/N snorted. “My little hopeless romantic.” She teased, pinching his cheek. The blush spread to the tips of his ears as he scowled, shoving her hand away and huffing. She hoped he didn’t feel her heart hammering in her chest from his words, though.
“I will shove you off a building. It can happen, you know.” He warned playfully. But despite his words, he still leaned in and accepted the sweet kiss she pressed to his lips, grinning as he pulled away. “Okay, your turn. Where would you wanna go?”
Shrugging, Y/N twisted the strand of hair around her finger, moving to trace the slope of his jaw. “Anywhere.” She whispered. “As long as I’m with you.” She said it truthfully, and Quinn was oddly emotional from the confession. Smiling softly, he pressed delicate kisses to her cheeks before connecting her lips, humming into the kiss as his hand rubbed up her spine.
“Baby.” Quinn murmured, and she hummed in response. “That’s real cute.” He huffed with a small chuckle, making her beam. And all too swiftly, she was pulled down with her cheek smooshed against his chest and his arms locked firmly around her, no chance for escape — though, she didn’t think she’d want to leave, anyway. “Now go to sleep.”
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chilschuck · 2 days
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beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333
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— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.
꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k
✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33
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— LAIOS:
✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.
✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.
✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.
✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!
✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.
✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.
“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.
In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”
You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”
Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.
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— CHILCHUCK:
✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.
✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.
✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…
✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.
✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…
✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.
“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.
“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.
You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”
The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.
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— FALIN:
✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!
✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.
✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.
✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.
✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.
“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.
“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.
“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.
“Let’s stay a little longer.”
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— MICKBELL:
✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.
✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.
✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.
✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.
✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.
“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.
“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.
“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.
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Wait for your love Pt 3
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summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you
inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)
a/n: as promised the final part of wait for your love :D literally just finished it. Enjoy 💞
Don’t wanna feed this monstrous fire
On a bright Saturday morning, you found yourself nestled in a booth opposite Chan.  A week into your move, Chan was finally able to convince you to join him at a nearby cafe for lunch. He  insisted that this cafe was “hidden” and such a “hole in the wall” that someone cool like you-know-who would never step within 5 feet of the place.
Chan sipped his ice americano silently, thinking of the best way of approaching the topic of you-know-who. He was becoming increasingly concerned about your maladaptive habits: barely eating meals, sleeping less than 4 hours each night and studying every waking moment. That wasn’t even the scariest part, the scariest was when he’d catch you staring into space, as if your soul had left your body.  
You were too busy admiring at your iced latte to notice a familiar figure walking pass the window adjacent to your table.
Chan, however, immediately noticed his tall friend. He prayed to all the gods that his friend was too tall to see anybody. Sadly his prayer went unanswered
Kim Mingyu immediately doubled back when he noticed his two friends sitting by the window. His eyes met Chan’s. Chan tilted his head towards you and shook his head. 
Now to any normal person, that would have meant do not come over. 
Clearly, Mingyu was anything but normal. 
“Y/n! Dino!”
Mingyu’s voice pulled you out of the staring contest you were having with your latte. You looked up to find the tall man sliding himself into the booth, shoulder to shoulder with Dino. The massive grin on his face almost blinding you. 
Dino nudged Mingyu hard on the shoulder. “Bro, what are you doing here?”
Here being halfway across town from where Mingyu lived. 
“Basketball!” Mingyu beamed at the younger man, “I’m meeting the others at a court nearby! Won- FUCK!” 
Chan dug his heel into Mingyu’s toe, keeping a smile on his face.
You jumped, startled by Mingyu’s sudden outburst. “Are you alright?”
“Dino just-,”
“He just hit is knee on the table,” Chan gave Mingyu a warning look as he pushed his foot down harder. “Long legs can be such a curse huh, bro?” 
Mingyu pulled his foot away and glared at Chan.
You blinked at the odd behaviour from your friends. 
Your eyes met Mingyu’s, you sent him a small smile before returning to stare at your latte. 
Mingyu noticed the stark contrast from your usual bubbly self. From memory, you were the girl who offered him a cup of coffee when he dragged Wonwoo’s drunk ass home at 5AM in the morning. Mingyu remembered you pestering him to send you a text when he got home so that you would know he was safe. You, who was barely his shoulder height, were worried for a tall, muscular boy like him. 
Mingyu looked at Chan and gestured towards the door. Chan nodded. 
“Sorry y/n, I’m just gonna talk to Gyu about something.” Chan spoke gently. 
“Male stuff.” Mingyu nodded as he slid out of the seat. 
They were both pretty sure your soul wasn’t even in your body at the moment from how you blankly nodded. 
Mingyu and Chan stood outside the cafe, making sure not to be in your line of sight. 
Mingyu crossed his arms. “What happened?”
“You don’t know? Wonwoo didn’t tell you?”
“I’m seeing him for the first time today.” Mingyu explained. “He’s been refusing to leave the house.”
“He busy fucking other girls?” Chan sneered. 
“I-,” Mingyu stopped, taken aback. “What?” 
“Bro. Come on.” 
“I genuinely have no idea what you are talking about.” Mingyu said as he held his hands up. 
Chan stared at the taller man for a few seconds and sighed. 
“Don’t tell anybody what I’m about to tell you.”
As you sat waiting for Chan, droplets of water began appearing on the table. 
You furrowed your brows. 
Was the ceiling leaking? 
You looked up only to feel tears rolling down your cheeks. 
You brought you hand up to your face. 
Ah, you were crying.
The tears continued. Just like your memories of Wonwoo.
“God,” You muttered, reaching for a bunch of tissues. “I’m pathetic.”
“Why can’t it be me?” You whispered as sobs started leaving your mouth. 
“Why am I so unlovable?” 
You tried to be as silent as possible, covering your face with your hands. 
That’s how Chan found you when he came back. 
He quickly guided you home. Hoping to hell that Wonwoo would stub his toe against a particular hard piece of furniture.
Me and my truth (again)
Wonwoo watched Vernon argue with Soonyoung as they threw the ball back and forth, Jeonghan stood in between the two of them mediating the argument. He wasn’t sure what they were arguing about, for all he cared they could plotting a bank robbery.
He brought his eyes down to this palms. A small smile on his face as he remembered the first time you held his hand. 
The two of you were rushing to catch the train. Back then he was still around your height and you were still much faster than him. He lagged behind you, huffing and puffing as you ran ahead. He stopped to catch his breath, bending over and placing his hands on his knees. 
You had turned back to check on him. Once you were sure he was fine, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into another sprint. Flashing him a grin. 
For the rest of the day his face was burning hot. When you asked him about it, he just blamed it on his poor stamina. He didn’t want to be that loser that got flustered when a girl touched him. He was. But at least he hoped he didn’t seem that way to you. 
“JEON WONWOO!” 
A red-faced Mingyu was storming towards him. 
Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo by the collar and lifted him up from his sitting position.
Wonwoo blinked, “What-,”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Mingyu snarled. “I thought you were in love with y/n?”
“I am! What on earth-,”
“Then why’d you sleep with another girl?” Mingyu bellowed, tightening his grip on Wonwoo’s collar. 
Audible gasps could be heard from Soonyoung and Vernon as they abandoned their argument. Jeonghan’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 
Not waiting for a reply, Mingyu pushed Wonwoo to the ground. 
“It didn’t mean anything.” Wonwoo retorted, adjusting his glasses.
“Not to y/n it didn’t!” Mingyu fumed.
“I wanted to talk to her about it! She left before I could!” Wonwoo reasoned from his position on the ground.
“Did you ever try to reach her? Try to find her?” Mingyu fumed, “No! All you’ve been doing is rot at home while she’s crying everyday at Chan’s place!”
Wonwoo mouth fell open. You were crying?
“Mingyu that’s enough.” Jeonghan placed a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, he had to stop this before it turned into a full blown fight. 
“You better fix yourself,” Mingyu pointed a shaky finger at Wonwoo, “before you completely lose her.”
I’m still here hanging
After the event at the cafe, you decided you weren’t ready to leave the house. Or your room for that matter. 
You gave Chan free reign over your door. He’d pop his head in and out of your room, sometimes leaving the door open even if all you were doing was lying on the floor. Chan would bring food into your room, trying to coax you into eating even if all you could manage was one or two spoonfuls. 
Minghao came over more often, bringing with his snacks from China and various tea leaves. 
“Let’s do some therapy!” 
“What?” 
“I read this thing online,” Minghao started, “it’s you burn all the stuff you have that reminds you of the person causing you pain.” 
You stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“According to Reddit, it works.” Minghao crossed his arms and nodded. He would do anything to try to get you to leave your room. 
“Firstly, I’m not into trusting strangers on Reddit.” You turned back to the ceiling. “Secondly, burning things and the environment are a no-no for me.” 
“Well, good to know you love the environment.” Minghao muttered as he sipped his tea. 
A loud knock came from the front door.
“Were you expecting someone?” Minghao asked. 
“No, you?”
“No.”
It was a relatively safe neighbourhood, but you never knew who would want to rob poor Lee Chan and his collection of electric shavers in the bathroom. Minghao picked up a frying pan and headed to the door. 
“Who is it?” Minghao sang. 
Hearing no answer, Minghao held up the frying pan with one hand and swung the door open with the other. He came face to face with Jeon Wonwoo. 
Wonwoo eyes were wide. “Hao?”
Minghao didn’t lower the pan, maybe he should whack the boy. Sure, Chan’s collections of razors were safe, but you weren’t.
“I come in peace I swear.” Wonwoo held up his hand. 
“Debatable.” Minghao muttered, “Why are you here?” 
“Is y/n here?” Wonwoo got straight to the point.
“What if she is?” 
“I just need to talk to her.”
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Minghao crossed his arms.
“Please,” Wonwoo was not above begging when it came to you. “If you’d just let me explain to her-,”
“Hao?” Wonwoo’s ears immediately perked up at your voice. “Who is it?” 
“Please.” Wonwoo whispered.
Minghao stared at Wonwoo for what seemed like ages before letting out a sigh. 
“30 minutes.”
“Thank you!” Wonwoo’s lips stretched into a grin.
“But if I hear anything I don’t like, I’m coming straight back in with this pan.”
It’s something like a daydream
“Hao?” 
You sat up when you didn’t hear a reply from your friend. Was he murdered by the robbers? You knew Chan’s collection of razors were well sought after but you didn’t expect people were willing to kill for it. 
Wrapping yourself up in a blanket, you stepped out of your room. 
“Hao?” You called out again, making your way towards the living room. 
Instead of Minghao, there was a familiar boy in the living room. 
You froze.
“Wonwoo.” You whispered. 
“Y/n.” Wonwoo breathed. 
You were both relieved and anxious. Relieved because it wasn’t some random stranger, anxious because it was Wonwoo. 
You cleared your throat. “Where’s Hao?” 
“In the hallway,” Wonwoo answered. 
“Oh.” 
“Can we talk?” Wonwoo said, sounding almost hopeful. 
“Sure.” 
You made no move to the couch or towards him. You remained standing in the hallway. Partially because you didn’t expect him to stay long, partially because you didn’t trust yourself not to burst into tears. 
Wonwoo’s shoulders fell when he realised you were just going to stand there. Just a year ago he was able to anticipate your every want and need. It was shameful that now he couldn’t get a read on what you were thinking or feeling. 
Wonwoo took a deep breath and began.
“I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. You shouldn’t have to come and pick me up when I’m drunk at a party.” He paused and waited for your reply. 
When nothing came he continued. “I’m so sorry for not speaking to you at home or in school. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings. I just didn’t know how to face you after-,” Wonwoo’s face turned red. “-after kissing you.”
“The night that I brought a girl home.”
You stiffened. 
“I swear I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk and I don’t remember anything from the night before. I promise it didn’t mean anything, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”
Wonwoo eyes searched your face, “Please, y/n, you have to believe me.” 
After a long period of silence, you finally spoke. 
“It’s fine Wonwoo, you don’t have to apologise.” 
Your voice was devoid of emotion. 
It wasn’t Wonwoo’s fault you couldn’t control your feelings. You were just unlucky to have fallen for him. 
Wonwoo blinked. 
“If that’s all you came to say,” You forced a smile before turning back towards your room. “I’m really tired so if you could please leave.”
“No, wait!” Wonwoo closed the distance between the two of you.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. You were so shocked you dropped your blanket to the ground. You were basically nose to nose with Wonwoo right now.
“Please.” He begged, “Please come back home.” 
“Wonwoo,” You whispered, tears threatening to slip out of your eyes. “I don’t think I can live with you anymore.”
The way he was holding you, the way he was speaking to you. The false hope that grew in your heart every time Wonwoo gave you the time of day. This was the reason why you couldn’t live with him anymore. 
It hurts to know he would never love you the way you loved him. 
It hurts to know you would never be enough for him.
“Wonwoo-,” your voice broke, fresh tears started rolling down your cheeks.
“Y/n, please,” Wonwoo begged, “tell me what I can do to make you come home.” 
“Wonwoo, I-,”
“Please, y/n.”
“I can’t go with you because I’m in love with you.” 
“I-,” Wonwoo paused, “What?” 
“I know you don’t see me that way and that’s completely fine.” You blubbered, “Just please don’t make me live with you. I can’t go through that again-,” 
Wonwoo kissed you. Completely sober this time. 
He pulled back to look at you. 
Your eyes were wide, still sniffling from crying. 
“I love you too.” He said, resting his forehead on yours as he stared into your eyes. 
This was the best day of his life. 
“What?” You whispered in disbelief, was this some sort of cruel joke?
“Been in love with you since the day you sat with me in school.” He confirmed.
“But Wonwoo, that was the first day you met me.” You said softly, as Wonwoo used his thumb to wipe away your tears.
“I guess it is.” He whispered. “I’ve loved you since day one.” 
“Are you kidding me?” You said in mock annoyance. “If you had told me sooner, we wouldn’t have to go through all this.”
Wonwoo didn’t really care about all that, right now he was just happy to have you in his arms again, the fact that you loved him back made the moment all so much sweeter. 
“I can tell you again.” Wonwoo suggested with a nod. 
He began peppering kisses all over your face. With each kiss he’d stare into your eyes and very seriously say “I love you” before moving onto another site. 
You giggled at Wonwoo’s silly antiques. 
When he had finally decided you had enough of his love, he tried again. 
“Please come home.” 
You eyed him hesitantly.
“Y/n, I will personally pack all your stuff up here and bring it over. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
You gave him a real genuine smile. “Of course I’ll move back with you.”
Wonwoo’s face lit up, he looked like a kid who’s Christmas came early.
“Ok guys, I’m coming back in!” Minghao’s voice came from the other side of the door. “I swear if you guys are doing any hanky panky in there you two better stop it!” 
You and Wonwoo exchanged amused looks before bursting out into laughter. 
Wonwoo vowed to spend the rest of his life making up for all that he had done and for all the time you two had lost. He thanked whoever or whatever made you sit next to him that fateful day in high school. Most of all he’d spend his days showering you with love and affection until you physically and mentally couldn’t stand it anymore. 
a/n: hope it wasn't too bad, was rushing cause i want to sleep soon. always open to comments and criticism!! 💗
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Text
the girl next door 9
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You don’t go straight home. You don’t want to upset your mom. So, you wander the suburbs, walking around cul-de-sacs, some you’ve never been down, and circling around the avenues. You pass mothers and fathers with strollers and children running and yelling on green lawns. It’s as if you’re walking through a utopia, floating by like a cursed wraith. 
You glance down at the book in your hand. Maybe you should try some lighter reading. Your mind tends to go to dark places. 
When at last you let yourself go back to the house, you do so cautiously. You don’t see Steve or your mom. As you come to the front door, you wonder if you should knock. You quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door as you stand on the mat. You leave your shoes on the low rack and tiptoe down the hall. Your mom can’t be mad if she doesn’t know you’re there. 
“Hey, kiddo,” Steve’s voice as you tripping over your own feet. You turn to the archway as you pass and peer in. Your mother’s in her recliner, her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? You watch her warily. “How was your walk?” 
“Um,” you blink and shrug, “fine.” 
He stands by the window, his hand on the wall beside it. Did he see you come up? You hadn’t noticed him behind the curtain. 
“Breakfast for you in the oven. Won’t be very warm but if it’s no good, I can start a new batch,” he offers. 
“Don’t bother with all that,” your mother grumbles and shifts in her chair, groaning as she shakily rubs her cheek. Her eyes open only slightly. “She can warm ‘em up.” 
“Always better fresh,” Steve stands straight and faces you fully. 
“Thanks.” 
You leave them with the single word. You feel like an intruder. You stop by your bedroom and hover in indecision. You just want to hide but you would hate to be rude. Steve went to all that trouble and you know, even as your mother says he’s already done too much, she’d be even more upset if you wasted his effort. 
You put your book on the foot of your bed and go down to the kitchen. You take out the pancakes, content enough to have them cold. There’s a bottle of real maple syrup. Steve must’ve supplied that; you can’t afford the pure stuff. You don’t use very much, mindful of the expense of the sugary nectar. 
You grab cutlery and bring the plate to the table. You sit alone. You can hear the hum of the ceiling fan from the front room and the dulcet song of birds floating in through the windows. Steve’s low tone rolls through the din but you can’t make out his words. You mother answers his with short mutters. She’s not having a very good day. You're surprised he stayed this long. 
The pancakes are good, even at room temperature. They’re fluffy and taste richer than the frozen ones you get a bargain on. Is that blueberry too? With each bite, your hunger clenches your stomach tighter, mulching down the food greedily. When you finish, your body growls and aches. 
You wash off your plate and put it in the tray. The lull of the house thickens as you pad down to your room. You slow as you near the door frame. Had you closed it? You can’t recall. 
You turn into the room and let out a noise of surprise. Steve looks over as he stands over the folding table, his hand on your sketchbook, a page half-turned. Your heart drops as you clasp your hands together. 
“Sorry, er, didn’t mean to...” he rescinds his hand and lets the page flutter down, “It was open and...” you don’t know whether he means the door or the book. “You’re really talented.” 
Your forehead crinkles and you charge towards him. You step around him and shut the book, swiping it up. He leans back on his heel. 
“I didn’t... I wasn’t trying to...” he sputters, “I just wanted to pass something by you.” 
You hug your sketchbook at you face him. You stare at this chest. You feel violated. Not just that he’s in your space but he touched your stuff. The one thing that’s really yours; your drawings. 
“Me and your mom were talking, you know, and she said it would be good for you to get out, maybe make some extra money,” he explains, “and I’ll be around so you won’t need to worry about her so much.” 
You frown. You and your mother have had this talk a billion times. Get off your ass and get a job. It’s not like you haven’t tried. 
“So, I got some work you can do. Like I said, I gotta get that pool open,” he continues, “and there’s little things around the house. You got a good hand so maybe some painting here and there.” 
You push your shoulders up. You don’t think you can say no, especially if he’s already said as much to your mom. You half-suspect this is her doing. 
“Complementary milkshakes?” He offers breezily. 
You’re quiet. You have no choice. You know as much. 
“You know,” he softens his tone, “if I’m gonna... hang around with your mom, we should get to know each other. It’s a good opportunity for us.” 
“Fine,” you answer. 
“Fine? So that’s a yes?” He asks. 
You close your eyes and flick them open, “yes.” 
“Great. Well, when can you start? How about tomorrow? Supposed to be another sunny day.” 
“Okay,” you agree, “tomorrow.” 
He doesn’t move. You want him to leave. The conversation is over. He got what he wants and your mom too. He’ll pay you dimes to clean the pool and your mom will reap the profit. 
“You know, I draw a little too,” he points to your sketchbook, “maybe if we have time tomorrow, I can show you.” 
“Maybe,” you mutter. 
“Ah, uh,” he chuckles bashfully and rubs his neck, “right, I'm in your way. Well, er, I’ll leave ya be.” He turns and struts to the door. He stops just inside the frame and looks back, “oh, how were the pancakes?” 
You take a breath and stay staring at the wall, “good.” 
“Great, did you have some of the syrup? It’s Canadian.” 
“Yeah,” you turn and tuck your sketchbook into your dresser draw. “Thanks.” 
“No problem, sweetie,” he taps the wall and the door closes with a click. 
You sit on your bed and hunch over to hold your head. It’s still heavy from the night before and now you’re even more tired than before. You don’t know if it’s from being out in the sun or all the walking you did, but your eyelids feel dry and seem to cling with each blink. You yawn and bring your legs up, curling your body up near the edge of the bed. 
You know you shouldn’t sleep in the middle of the day, but you just can’t help yourself. 
🏠
You wake up in the haze of the late afternoon. Your eyes hurt and your limbs are achy. You lay on your back as the curtains stir with the lazy breeze. You look over to find them open but you don’t remember pulling them apart. You barely remember anything past your awkward morning stroll. 
It takes you a while to push through the stiffness. You never sleep on your back; it leaves it racked and your ribcage hurts. As you stand, you notice the door. It’s slightly open. 
You get up and go to it, pull it inch by inch. The house is quiet but for a soft rumble, rhythmic and rocky. You putter down the hall and look into the front room. Your mom’s asleep in her chair. She’s almost peaceful as she snores in the recliner. 
The scene strikes you as odd, almost dreamlike. Your mom’s never been much of a napper. In fact, she always nagged you about the habit. You think of waking her but think better of it. She won’t be happy to be awoken, even if she might be irritated later to know she slept away the day. 
Steve is gone. You search each room to be sure then go to the kitchen. It’s clean and everything is put away, even the dishes you left in the tray. The large bottle of syrup is gone as well. 
You mutter and go back to your room. Another soft wind drifts in. You stumble over to your bed and fall back onto it. You yawn again. Gosh, you’re so tired. 
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hawkinsquarry · 2 days
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all things must pass (steve x reader)
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summary: steve makes you leave him at the end of the world.
contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; no pronouns used for reader; post-st4; unresolved angst; probably too much swearing :/
i miss this guy and i’m feeling insane over him so have some angst with an ambiguous ending 🫶🏻
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Steve’s feet feel particularly heavy when we steps across your foyer. And the packet he has in his hands feels even heavier. He brushes off a few specs of ashes before slamming them down on the table in front of you, lazily eating cereal.
“What the hell is this?” you ask after a moment, grabbing the ledger on top. You know immediately it’s an airline ticket. It makes you feel sick and you push your Cheerios away as your eyes scan the details.
FROM-TO
IND > LA
You want to fucking kill him but you don’t have a chance as he breezes past, grabbing your suitcase out of your walk in closet.
“You depart in twelve hours,” he starts. He recited it in his head the entire way over to make the conversation easier, but the words are hard to get out. “Only take your essentials. When you’re there, a chauffeur will pick you up and take you to the - the - the location.”
“Steve, I’m not fucking going -“
“Yes, you are.” He says sternly. Like you’re a child.
“I’m not going anywhere without you!”
And he know this was coming - this cyclical argument you’ve been having for the last three weeks, your tears, the lump in his throat, uncertainly fogging both of your vision. But it doesn’t make it any easier, any less frustrating.
He says your name low and quiet. A plea. “This is safe. This is where the - the - the people I know told me to send you. That it’s the safest place.”
“And we’re trusting those people now?”
“No. W-well, yes! It - it’s - just - trust me, not them. Okay?” He settles your suitcase on the couch and starts moving around your living room for things he knows you’ll need. A blanket. Medicine. “Anywhere away from here is better, anyway.”
“So you admit it isn’t safe?”
Steve sniffles. “I never said it was.”
You follow him to your bedroom where he begins ripping clothes from your closet. He doesn’t miss the hoodie he leant you a few months ago. It’s laid on top of your suitcase with more shirts and pants.
You grab his arm and try to force it to fall back to his side, but he’s too strong, god damn him. “Steve, quit!” you beg, digging your heels into the ground and tugging on him. “I’m not leaving, Steve. I’m not going unless you go with me.”
“We talked about this.”
As nauseam, in fact. Until the ache in Steve’s throat was excruciating. Until your voice was hoarse and you were heaving. He’s not leaving, and you are.
You tug on him again. “I’ll keep talking about it until you listen to me!”
He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps moving back and forth between your closet and the suitcase. You cry, as hard as you try not to. You really are like a petulant child, stomping your foot, throwing a tantrum. You feel like it’s the only way he’ll listen, but you know the reality is that he still won’t.
“What about me?” you cry. You’re so angry at him, want to say something that’ll make him hurt. That’ll change the expression on his stoic face. You find it in you to refrain. “What about us, Steve?”
Keeps packing. Head down. Jaw clenched tight. He was ready for this fight when he walked in.
“Steve, let the goddamn military handle it. Do - do you honestly think you’re going to save the world?”
“No,” he snaps.
“Then what?”
He doesn’t answer because you already know why. Because he can’t leave Dustin, and Dustin can’t leave El, because apparently she can save the world. And Robin won’t leave Steve who won’t leave Dustin who won’t leave El. And Nancy fucking Wheeler won’t leave Mike who won’t leave El.
It makes you feel insane. Your blood boils and spills over, and over, and over, and it never just depletes. You keep going, keep arguing, trying to talk him out of it until your voice is hoarse. It’s hoarse now, in fact. Last night Steve held you until you shut up, until you cried yourself to sleep, and you had no idea he had already got you a plane ticket out of here. You feel so betrayed it makes your stomach twist and chest ache.
“I can’t live without you,” you try. It’s the third time you’ve pulled this and it seems to get him the most. “Steve, I don’t know what I’d do if - if….”
Steve bites his cheek, stilling, his hands clutching one of your sweaters.
“Why don’t you care?” you push.
He sniffles again, pinches his nose. You’d prefer it if he’d just let himself cry. He’d give in, then, if he let his emotions take over.
“Don’t you love me?”
“Jesus, yes,” he grits, finally looking at you. His eyes are red. “Why do you think I’m makin’ you leave, huh? Why do you think I���m staying?”
“Because you think you’re something you’re not!”
He runs a big hand through his hair so harshly you fear it’ll get tugged out. He walks towards you, holding his arms out, murmuring, “honey,” and as much as it pains you, you back away.
“Don’t,” you say sharply. Your throat aches. “Don’t do that, Steve.”
“I love you.” He sounds exhausted. “I love you, please believe me.”
“If you love me, then come with me.”
“There won’t be a world for us to live in unless we stop this.”
“You aren’t going to save the world.” You’re so desperate for him to listen to you. “The chances are so slim, Steve. Why can’t we love each other while we have time?”
Steve takes a shaky breath. “I won’t let you die without doing something about it first.”
You stare at each other. It’s suddenly dawning on you that nothing you’ll do will ever change his mind. That his chances of living through the next few days are slim. That this is the last time you’ll get to see him. While he’s packing for you and forcing you to take a plane to California.
There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s not like what you’ve seen in the movies you rented from Family Video when Steve had a shift. Before he was yours. When you went because the forest green vest looked so good on him, and he always had some goofy recommendation, and he let his hands touch yours when giving you your change for a moment too long.
You’ve hardly even had him.
“So that’s it?” You can hardly hear yourself.
“I’m doing this for you. I’m doing everything for you. And - and i-if it works, I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear, angel.”
You shake your head, hot tears making their way down your jaw. “No.”
He stills. Looks a little like a deer in headlights. Caught off guard, shocked. Mouth parting slightly before closing again, like he wants to argue but can’t.
What is there to say?
“If you make me get on that plane, Steve….” You shake your head again, swallowing the ache in your throat down.
You stare at each other again. His eyes are one of your favorite things about him. Those saccharine, chestnut and moss colored irises. They scrunch up when he laughs. You used to think about leaving Hawkins and moving somewhere nice, so far away from all of this that Steve grows up to have crows feet around his eyes. That you’d be the one who put them there. And this is the last time you’ll see them.
“You have to go,” he eventually sniffles.
“Please,” you try, for the final time.
He blinks slowly, frowning, chest rising and falling slowly. “I love you,” he whispers. “Please believe me.”
You’re not sure if you can.
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shes2real · 24 hours
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The Bloodline dating shy!reader — Headcannon ♡
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୨୧ roman loves his shy girl! he’s so tender and affectionate with you, he has so many nicknames that suits ur shy personality. they range from “sweetheart”, “beautiful,” and his favorite, “my sweet girl ”. his patience has no boundaries as he encourages you to take things at your pace! while you two were attending a low-key event, you held onto his hand tightly. sensing your nervousness, roman pulled you close, and reassured you, "it’s okay, sweet girl. you’re safe with me."
୨୧ he loves rough sex but when it comes to you, he knows that you’re always in for the ride (no pun intended) even when it’s hard for you to verbally express what you want. he loves to communicate with you by using ur safewords. you love it when he uses ur throat, it makes you so wet happy! his hands gently removed your mouth off his dick as he looked at you, “what color, baby? you okay?” your eyes fluttered with satisfaction. “green,” you said hoarsely, smiling at him before taking him back into your mouth.
୨୧ his love language is physical touch. he’s always touching you whether it’s hugs, tender kisses, or he’s simply rubbing you through ur panties to help you sleep. he knows that you need it but truthfully, he needs it too…it has built a strong bond between you guys. the comfort and reassurance of his gentle touches always makes you feel so much better <3
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୨୧ jimmy is such a goofball and he’ll do anything to make you smile! there’s never a dull moment with him, especially when he sees you dressing up. you’ve always been so shy to dress up around him, even though he’s seen every ounce of your body. but that never stops him from hyping you up. he leans against the door frame, his eyes lighting up as he sees you, “damn! you look good asf!,” he gives you a twirl while he grins mischievously, “got me ready to take you down right here, girl!”
୨୧ he loves any position where he can watch your love faces, which you have a love/hate relationship with. as he’s sinking deeper inside of you, stretching you out, he watches you with admiration. you quickly cover your mouth, causing him to remove your hand, “don’t hide them pretty sounds from me, baby.” but hours later he’s mocking ur moans as u playfully hit him, “stooppp!”
୨୧ jimmy’s love language is acts of service. especially when you find it extremely hard to order your own food while you two are out on dates. even though you’ve rehearsed it a million times, you’ll stumble on ur words or forget what you want to order! but jimmy eagerly steps in, not just ordering for you, but making sure it's exactly what you want, ensuring your meal is as perfect as you are to him. even when life gets tough, he's your unwavering support. whether you need a listening ear or a comforting embrace, he’s there, ready to wrap you in his arms, and whispering his favorite line, "we like bonnie and clyde, boo! i gotcho' back!" but it’s not just a line; it's his promise to always be by your side, through thick and thin! <3
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୨୧ jey is extremely family oriented. if he’s not yelling “yeet” every five minutes, he’s spending time with his large family. as you’re surrounded by his family, you feel a pang of anxiety. just when you start to feel overwhelmed, he leans in close and places a gentle hand on ur thigh as he whispers softly, "you don't have to be anyone but yourself with me, i promise." as time passes, you find urself interacting with a few of his cousins! with jey’s support, you’re always accomplishing something new <3
୨୧ “want you to choke me,” you mewled as jey fucked you. there was no reason for you to be so shy, his nasty ass is with whatever you’re with! he smirked as one hand squeezed your throat while the other teased your clit. your eyes rolled as he thrusted into you while toying with ur clit, he felt you grow wetter as his grip tightened, “this shit doin’ it for you mama? you like it when daddy choke you?” drool formed in the corners of ur mouth as your orgasm coursed through you. jey flashes you a dangerous smile, “let it out f’ me..that’s a good girl.”
୨୧ ofc, jey’s love language is physical touch! no matter where you are, he is quick to rest his hand on your lower back. his thumb is always caressing you softly, a little reminder of his presence. even his possessive yet firm grip makes you feel comfortable. as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, he asks you, “you ight, mama?” you press your body against his, giving him a simple nod.
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୨୧ solo’s extremely laidback. you two are so compatible! the only problem is..he doesn’t say much. but he makes up for it! from making your favorite food to holding you close during movie marathons. however, when your shyness surfaces, he can't help but pout, urging you to loosen up.
୨୧ he’s so vocal in bed, it’s soooo attractive! but he also has a humiliation kink, which is just great. “use ur words, baby,” he purred, pressing the rose toy firmer against your sensitive clit. “p-please please…can i cum?” your legs were trembling and tears were streaming down your cheeks as you felt yourself about to burst. “let it out princess,” even though he let you cum, you had to thank him for being so generous. he was gonna get you to talk one way or another.
୨୧ his love language being quality time means he treasures every moment he spends helping you explore new things aka getting you out of your shell. date nights and vacations with him are always full of surprises; you never know what he has planned next. a sip n’ paint was the location of ur date night with solo. surrounded by the soothing ambiance, you instantly began to relax. solo notices the change in ur demeanor and leans over to kiss you. "So proud of you, princess.” <3
Thanks for reading babe ☁️🌷
・❥ ・ @blcst4r @romanreignsbae @pittieprincess22 @cyberdejos2 @xoxoril3yyy @rwbypatootie @solefae @empressdede @adoreesun @alyyaanna @shantinextdoor @zombiedixon89 @acknowledge-reigns @browneyedgirlfriend4l @girlnred @theasiaabattoir @glitterywitchstarlight @brienivl @melaninpvssypoppin @nashalis97-blog @truefant4sy
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mouschiwrites · 3 days
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Sorry this is kinda short!! I just had thoughts and. here they are
Ninjago - Getting All Tucked In
Kai
BODYSLAMS YOU
I am so sorry but… that’s just how it is with him
He’ll wait until you’re all tucked in, then he’ll run at the bed and JUMP
Sometimes he aims to land on you, sometimes he aims for the place next to you
Just imagine that one markiplier gif (see below) but instead of going to punch you he has his arms open to wrap around you
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^ him every night
Once you’re done scolding him for. that. Then he’ll cuddle up next to you as an apology
Unfortunately no amount of scolding will ever deter him from doing this literally every night
It’s rather jarring to go from “ah I’m ready for bed” to “IM BEING BODYSLAMMED” to “ah time for bed” again, but you both somehow don’t lose sleep over it
Cole
Likes to carry you to bed :]
The way I see it, you’ll both wait until you’re super sleepy before heading to bed
Then, wherever you are, he’ll insist on scooping you up to carry you
Even if you’re both just in the bathroom brushing your teeth and the bed is five steps away
He won’t hear any protests you give
It’s lowkey an excuse to hold you and cuddle when you settle down shhhh
If you start to fall asleep while he’s carrying you, he’ll be extra careful not to wake you
He also likes to switch up how he carries you, depending on his mood
Sometimes he’ll carry you bridal style, sometimes he’ll give you a piggy back, sometimes he just throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (gently)
After a while you learn to just give in to it
Also always smiles while he carries you :)
Zane
He doesn’t just wait until you’re in bed; he waits until you’re at least half asleep
He’ll find something to do while he waits (usually chores)
Why does he do this? He doesn’t want to disturb you :(
But honestly it’s more disturbing how quiet he is when he finally tucks himself in
Like… does he think you’re going to murder him?? Why is he literally in full ninja mode
You actually get scared when he does this at least once
One moment you’re alone in bed and the next you sleepily open your eye and THERES SOMEONE NEXT TO YOU—oh it’s just Zane
You’ve tried to talk to him about it before, but he always insists on “not disrupting your routine”
He’s definitely anxious about getting in your way/disturbing you, but he also likes how peaceful you look as he silently slips in beside you
It’s relaxing for him to see you like that before he starts to recharge himself :]
Jay
Insists on being tucked in
He HAS to be the first in bed; he will literally run ahead of you to ensure this
If you ever get in before him, he’ll just sit on top of the covers and stare at you
If you play dumb (bc you know what he wants) he’ll clear his throat like “um I’m waiting”
Literally so needy 😭
He just loves the way you pull the covers over him and kiss his forehead
And when you slide in next to him? Bliss
It makes him feel safe knowing that you’re the one seeing him off to sleep
Not only does he get to see you before he drifts off (so he knows you’re there with him and you’re safe), but he trusts you more than anyone
He may be needy but he deserves someone like you who will do this for him :( my boy has trust issues
Lloyd
He likes to get in bed at the exact same time
You guys get ready for bed at the same time too 😌 I think you’d have a shared routine :3c
You’ll both go to one side of the bed and climb in, scooting closer together until you meet in the middle
Bc of course you’re gonna cuddle, it’s Lloyd
I like to imagine that you both wrap one arm around each other and use your free arms to pull the covers up together
Some teamwork right before sleeping 💪
You’d probably fall asleep first
Mostly because he can only relax once he feels you relaxing too
Your slow breathing becomes his slow breathing, your heartbeat becomes his heartbeat
A soft smile comes to his lips as he drifts off, and internally he’s thanking you for being there with him :)
It definitely helps with nightmares to wake up to another body next to his; one that’s calm and grounding
Nya
She gets in bed WAY after you
She likes to stay up, what can I say
An early bird and a night owl 😔
Dw though, she always tells you goodnight when you go to bed
Then, several hours later, she’ll come in and slide into bed next to you
OR BEHIND YOU AND SHES THE BIG SPOON OUUGHHHHH
She’ll wrap her arms around you and pull you in to kiss your head
If you stir awake, she shushes you, already half-asleep herself
But she doesn’t really try not to disturb you; she’s way too sleepy for that
So you probably will actually stir awake at some point
But then you both fall asleep pretty quickly, just cozied up together <3
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Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my loves <33
(divider by saradika)
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marlynnofmany · 1 day
Text
Not Special, Part Two
(Part One is here)
Oscar Tennyson grabbed his purchases and hurried after the rest of his crew. As usual, they were walking quickly on their longer legs and bellowing for him to keep up. The teeth-and-scales Mighty had no patience for human weaknesses. Of which there were many.
But, as Oscar had just learned, there were some strengths as well. And he couldn’t wait to show them.
He scampered onboard before the door shut, wondering if they would actually leave without him if he dawdled too long. Probably not — who would handle their finances and hunting permits? They’d have to hire someone else, because they certainly didn’t want to do it themselves. But he didn’t want to test that.
He had much better things to test. While the stark metal walls vibrated with the engine’s revs, Oscar wove between scaled biceps and tails to his own quarters. He pressed the panel by the door, which was oversized and cracked like all of them on this ship. The Mighty were not fans of fiddly little buttons or keys. Not when they could have panels big enough to punch, which only broke sometimes.
When Oscar stepped through and closed the door behind him, he felt immediately relieved. This was his private space to decorate as he chose, without worrying that someone would take things down or make fun of him. Ship rules were clear about personal quarters. Oscar’s fake orchids and real cactus made the room homey, along with more posters than the walls could hold. They spilled onto the ceiling, lining it with nature scenes from Earth, sports figures he admired, media announcements, and a good number of fluffy kittens. This was the one spot on the ship where he could feel comfortable, and he was making the most of it.
The bag of refueling station supplies crinkled as he set it on his small table to remove the contents. A high-end store might have had Waterwill bags that evaporated after a day, but this place used regular old plastic. Inside were food cubes, bottled water, and the purchase he was most excited about: six cans of very weak caffeine.
He scanned the label. It was just like the other human had said. Tall cans in dramatic colors, but not much of substance inside. At least, not as far as the average human was concerned.
Oscar couldn’t wait until dinner time.
Before then, he had a permit to submit and several other things to check. The ship should be on the way to Argosha, which was notorious for welcoming outsiders in to hunt the Dagger Birds that were giving everyone so much trouble, but he had better get their paperwork in order anyway.
He grabbed his tablet and left his safe haven, heading back into the public parts of the ship where he could face taunts from any direction. Really, these guys were just like his cousins. At least it was familiar.
Fending off tiresome conversation — “How’s the weather down there?” “Why don’t you ask your mother?” —he reached the bridge and found a corner to stand in. The captain and the pilot were arguing about where to land when they reached Argosha.
“The main site will have more people to admire our ship!”
“The new one is closer to the hunting grounds!”
“Dagger Birds are overrunning the place; everywhere is a hunting ground!”
“Do you want to pay the damages for shooting a building instead of a bird? We can take it all out of your pay, if you want!”
“Fine, but if we land on some overgrown hedge and the ship is scratched, you get to pay for that!”
“Fine!”
The pair of them stopped yelling and sat back in their seats as if nothing at all was the matter, because it wasn’t. Polite disagreements were always held at that volume.
In the brief lull while the pilot manipulated the controls with more force than a lesser console could withstand, Oscar spoke up. “I’d like to come too.”
Both dinosaurian heads turned to stare at him in surprise. “Why?” the captain demanded. “One kick from a bird, and you’re useless to us.”
“Thanks,” Oscar said flatly. “I’ll keep out of the way. I want to take photos of your fighting prowess; I should be able to sell them.”
Both of the Mighty preened at that, as he’d known they would. Ego was big here. The captain agreed, and Oscar didn’t let slip any hints of his secret plan. He just finished working on his tablet, then retreated to his quarters to practice Dagger Bird mating calls.
The air on Argosha was breathable but hot, at least this part of it. Oscar was ready with his Tool in his pocket. (He’d gotten out of the habit of calling it a phone, since the Mighty were right in that it did a near-infinite number of things.) (He still smirked quietly at the potential innuendo, but it was a conversation he didn’t really want to have with giant dinosaur aliens, so he kept that to himself.)
“This way,” announced the captain, pointing in what looked like an arbitrary direction into the wilderness. Whooping with the alien equivalent of testosterone, the crew raised their blasters and tromped off the landing pad with Oscar following close behind.
True to his word, he did take some pictures as he went. But he was waiting for his moment.
It didn’t take long to come. The shouting scared off all the wildlife, then the Mighty found a boulder to crouch behind and wait for the creatures to come back. They played a silent counting game to see who was best at guessing when they’d spot something worth killing.
Distant footsteps on leaves made them smack each other in excitement, but nothing appeared between the trees.
Now or never, Oscar thought. Knowing better than to startled his crewmates, he whispered, “Here, let me.” Then he took a deep breath and let loose with his best imitation of a Dagger Bird seeking a mate. “Woarrrrrrk!”
While the Mighty shushed him and wondered what he was doing and started to figure it out, an answering woarrk sounded from nearby.
Then another, then, three.
Oscar wondered if he’d overplayed his hand.
No less than five large and eager Dagger Birds crashed through the undergrowth at once, croaking and flapping, taking offense at each other’s presence. The Mighty all roared and leapt out, firing in every direction.
Oscar dashed for a tree he’d been eyeing, the one with lots of branches, and didn’t stop climbing until he was out of beak-stabbing range. He held tight to the trunk, catching his breath and watching the chaos. Belatedly, he remembered to take out his Tool and snap some photos.
This was actually a good angle. He got a great shot of the captain aiming down the throat of a wide-open beak, then another a split second later when the beak snapped shut inches from his head. Another of the engineer shooting one from beneath. Two of the pilot tackling the largest bird and sinking teeth into the back of its neck where it couldn’t reach to stab.
Other species did their trophy hunting from a distance. The Mighty liked the fight as much as the kill. Their blasters were set on a deliberately low setting, and their teeth were sharp.
Safe up in his tree, Oscar grimaced at how bloody things were getting down below. He yelled another bird call to distract the one about to spear the crewmate who’d been knocked to the ground, and he got a cheerful “Nice save by the little guy!” which was as close to a thank you as he was going to get. The crewmate scrambled up and bit off a chunk while the bird was distracted. A couple of the crew looked like they were bleeding their own blood, but most of it was coming from the Dagger Birds, which were just as stubborn as the stories had said. Not one of them ran off. The last to die fell on top of somebody, which just added laughter from the rest of the crew to the triumphant cheers.
Oscar took a picture of the bird being dragged off his disgraced crewmate. That photo he wouldn’t sell, but would keep as minor blackmail if he ever needed it. Sticking it up on the wall to remind everyone of this moment could be a valuable strategic move.
“We are the MIGHTY!” bellowed the captain, and the whole crew joined in with a deep-voiced cheer. Oscar climbed down to more approval than he’d gotten in the last month.
“Good work by our human here! Who knew you could do that?”
“That’s sure an efficient way to hunt!”
“We should bring you out every time. That was great.”
Oscar took the praise with pride, not bothering with modesty. That was just another word for weakness as far as these guys were concerned.
He managed to dodge when one of them made to slap him on the back with a large bloodstained hand, which just made them laugh more. Luckily the captain directed everybody to gather their kills for dragging back to the ship, rather than chasing the human and messing up his clothes.
Oscar took a position on the lowest branch of his tree, taking a couple more photos as the victorious hunters figured out how to get it all home. If anyone had asked Oscar, which they never would, he’d have suggested going back for a hovercart, or taking them one at a time. But of course they did neither.
Definitely the type to insist on carrying all the groceries in at once, Oscar thought as his crewmates strained to drag the giant carcasses through the undergrowth. He hopped down and kept pace out to the side where there was no blood on the leaves.
They finally made it back to the ship, doing nothing to clean up the smears of blood they left on the landing pad. Oscar darted off to his quarters as soon as the door opened. The rest of them could handle getting the birds into cryo storage, or chopped up right away, whichever they saw fit to do. The lowest-ranking one without significant injuries would be in charge of clearing the blood from the hallways, but only after they’d all taken a walk through the water-and-air blast chamber that passed for a shower here. It had always reminded Oscar of a car wash.
He kept to himself until dinner, sorting his photos while everyone else dealt with the catch and the mess and the injuries. The mechanical medsystem on this ship was just as efficient as the shower. They’d all be in decent shape by mealtime.
And mealtime after a successful hunt was also drinking time.
Oscar usually ate in his room, wanting nothing to do with the raucous meat-tearing and drunkenness. But today was different, because he’d learned something valuable about the liquid they were getting drunk off.
Oscar considered the cans he’d bought, then decided it would have more of an impact if he just took one of the communal supply. So instead he grabbed his new food cubes and a premade tin of spaghetti from his mini-cryo, and followed the sound of laughter.
They were already a little drunk when he got there. Sprawled across chairs with a table full of meat slabs spilling over the edges of the plates. And as expected, there were tall purple cans everywhere.
“Heyyyy, it’s the little guy! Let’s hear it for the human with the surprise talent! Maybe you’re not useless after all!”
“Thanks,” Oscar said as they pounded fists against anything in reach as a form of applause. He leaned against the open doorway and shuffled his belongings so he could get a fork in a meatball without setting down the food cubes. “That was pretty easy where I’m from. You guys really can’t do that?” He popped the meatball into his mouth, casual as you please.
The Mighty of course, thought this was funny, and took it in stride. More gulps from their drinks, more savage mouthfuls of food, and a few questions about the surely-excellent photos he’d gotten, which would make them all look amazing.
Oscar said he’d share the best ones. These would make fine decorations in their own quarters, and would probably be appreciated by the right paying audience.
Then came the moment he’d been waiting for. The captain raised his drink in another cheer, and somebody noticed that the human was the only one without a can in his hand.
“Get the human a warrior’s drink!”
“Bet you he passes out after one sip.”
“Nah, he can take at least two.”
Oscar smiled quietly. If they’d been paying attention, they might have changed their bets at that smile. He set his food down in the hallway to free his hands. When one muscular, taloned arm offered him a can of their most potent intoxicant, he took it. Oh so casually.
Then he whipped his head back and chugged the whole thing.
“Oh! Human’s gonna die!”
“I’m not cleaning up the puke!”
“What the supernova! There are better ways to go than that!”
“Somebody drag him to medical so we don’t have to find somebody else to do the boring stuff.”
“Yeah, he was just getting interesting.”
Oscar ignored all of them, giving the empty can a thoughtful look. It felt like the same thin aluminum he remembered from Earth. And if there was anything his cousins had taught him, it was the proper way to dispose of a beer can.
He dug his fingertips in and crushed it against his forehead. Then while the room reacted to that, he wiped off the drips and threw the can across the room. When it went into the trash on the first try, he was internally very glad, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he picked up his food and resumed eating. “What’s the big deal?” he said. “Is that what you guys have been getting drunk off? How quaint.”
“How in all the black holes—”
“No, he’s gonna fall over any second; just watch.”
“Quaint, that’s hilarious.”
“He’s totally bluffing. Just wait and see.”
Oscar was enjoying being the center of the crew’s attention today. He made a show of sweeping his eyes across the various cans in the room. “None of you has finished a can yet, I see. Was that supposed to be strong?”
There was widespread laughing and elbowing of each other, most of them still clearly convinced that the silly little human was going to throw up and die any second now.
So Oscar set down his food, walked over to the table, and chugged a second one. It was a bit more liquid than his stomach was really happy with, but that was a small price to pay for the uproar that followed.
They exclaimed; they renewed their bets; they drank from their own cans; they got visibly drunker and abandoned their bets.
Oscar leaned against the doorframe, eating spaghetti and food cubes.
After one particularly unsteady crewmate tripped onto the table full of meat, and someone pointed out that the human wasn’t wobbling at all, Oscar said, “You guys don’t know much about my species, do you? Half of what I eat would liquify your insides.” He held up a food cube, eyeing the different colored specks of all the ingredients that made it balanced for an omnivorous digestive system. He laughed. “You guys just eat meat. How boring!”
They only got drunker after that. Oscar was pretty sure that the nearest two wanted to pat him on the back, but the floor was moving too much for them to make it all the way to the doorway. Somebody offered him a raw slab of Dagger Bird. He turned it down with casual scorn.
“Nah, meat isn’t worth eating unless it’s passed through fire. That’s weakling meat you’ve got there. Get back to me when it’s cooked brown.”
They loved that. The party was an epic one, only winding down when most of the crew was too drunk to reach more drinks. Oscar demonstrated his steadiness by picking through the mess to drop his food containers in the trash, then move back to the door.
“Well, it’s been fun,” he said. “I’ll send in the med-drone to make sure nobody’s going to wake up dead. Let me know if you want to get your tails handed to you by any more Dagger Birds. I’ll call ‘em in close for you again.”
He got groggy approval to that.
Oscar left with a smile on his face, and a mild amount of caffeine in his blood. Maybe after stopping by the medcenter, he’d use that energy on some exercise. Thoughts of the run to the hunting grounds, and the way his crewmates had paced themselves, suggested that it wouldn’t take much practice for him to out-endurance the Mighty on the VR treadmill.
I wonder what else I can do?
~~~~~~~~~
By popular request, this is the sequel to the story I posted last week, which is part of the ongoing series of backstory for the main character in this book. (It started that way, at any rate, and turned into a sprawling series in its own right. Fun stuff.)
Patreon opens the day after tomorrow, on May 1st! There's a free tier and everything if you want to keep up without strings attached! And you can even request more delightful nonsense like this.
Onward!
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marcsburnerphone · 1 day
Text
And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: kissing, a little tinsy bit angsty, flirtatious banter.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10
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“Why’re you putting these up anyway?” You say standing at the bottom of the ladder that John is currently stood on, installing cameras he purchased for outside your home.
“Cause i’ll have to return to work this weekend and i’d like to make sure you’re safe.” you smile to yourself at his protective nature.
“I’ve lived here for ages and nothing has ever happened.” you reassure him as he descends the ladder.
“It’s for my peace of mind.” he says quietly between the two of you in the spring air.
“Okay.” you reply as he places a kiss on your forehead.
“Onto the next corner.” he says gathering the ladder, walking to the other side of the house as his tool belt clings and clangs.
—------------
“Anything you can tell me about this next mission you’re going on?” you ask as the both of you lay on the couch.
“I leave on Sunday and don't know when I'll return, that's all.” He tries to make his deep gruff voice soft it’s a cute attempt. He knew this was going to be the hard part for both of you. You want him to stay and he doesn’t want to go but duty calls.
“Mmm.” you breathe into his chest, trying to inhale him, commit his scent to memory sure it’ll linger but this is straight from the source.
“I'll call you when I can.”
“I thought you weren't allowed to bring a personal phone, that’s what Gaz told me.” you rest your chin on his chest looking up at him.
“Gaz isn’t the captain.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Ah abuse of power is it.” You quip. 
“If that’s what it takes to reach you.” You look away not being able to contain your blush after that as if he couldn’t feel your heartbeat quicken.
He lifts your chin back up, leaning down almost straining his neck for a kiss. Of course this kiss turns into more, you move further up the couch straddling his waist you’re hungry for him, for his kisses, groans, deep inhales of air, all of it. He’s flipped the two of you over pinning you beneath him with almost half his weight.
“John, why’re you teasing me?” You whimper.
“Not teasing, takin ma time.” 
He kisses down your throat, over your pulse to your collarbone ridding you of your shirt tossing it somewhere to be picked up later. This has been a common occurrence recently thing is he won’t fuck you. No, he will do everything else and give you absolutely anything you want except well what you want. 
“John.” You say as he starts to take your pants off.
“Yeah doll?” He slows the movement of his fingers and simply rests them on your hips.
“Why- why won’t you- you know fuck me?” So you did notice.
“Well because I- I actually-“ he’s a stuttering mess for the first time since you’ve met. 
“Do you not want to?” You begin as you sit up.
“Of course I do, believe me, but I want to savor you in every single way I can, you're irresistible as you are if I have you the way I want it’s all I’ll think about whilst also trying to not get killed.” He admits while comfortingly rubbing your thigh.
“Oh, that’s actually quite hot.” You feel a little bad, I mean who are you to demand something that’s literally a part of him.
“When I’m back I promise I'll give you my cock like you so desperately want.” Well damn.
——————
“Do you guys share a room wherever these missions are?” You ask as he dices up tomatoes for your antipasto Salad. 
“Em there’s rarely time for sleep but sometimes depending where we are we do and other times we don’t. Most times there aren’t even rooms there’s tents or simply no sleep.” He answers before tossing them into the large bowl beside his cutting board as you hum in understanding.
You didn’t know he knew had to cook, well sort of. He can grill, but that’s something that you cannot. So recently he’s been showing you how to smoke and grill different meats, today is what he said was the best of them all and longest cooking time, brisket. 
“Do they snore?” You ask as he laughs at your random questions.
“Yeah actually soap snores like a fucking pig, it’s horrible.” Now it’s your turn to laugh as he nods towards the door for you to follow him outside so he can check on the meat.
“Do I snore?” you ask sheepishly. He smiles looking over his shoulder at you, your arms crossed across your chest to make up for your lack of a sweater. When he sees you this way, so comfortable and raw, hair in your face and pajamas at 6PM, it’s everything and more. 
“You do.” your eyes go wide.
“No, do I really?” you seem so genuinely concerned.
“Doll everynight i've got to spend beside you has been the deepest and best sleep of my life, if you snore I've got no idea.”��
“Thank goodness.” You sigh out as he approaches you.
“Ready to eat?” He asks brushing hair from your face. 
“Yes.” 
Dinner is more talking than eating on your behalf, you want to soak up every second with him that you can. He listens intently wishing his brain was a recording machine so he could play it back when he needed to feel sane. 
“God John that was so good.” You say half an hour after he’s already finished his meal which was also his third serving. 
“I’m glad, you always cook. I'm happy to be able to provide you with this one thing.” 
“You’ve provided me with much more than this one thing.” You say with a soft smile, it’s so sweet it nearly knocks him breathless.
“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit.
“I know, doll.” He reaches across the table for your hand holding it firmly but not tightly as he looks away.
“But I know you have too.” His eyes return to yours.
“How will I spend my days without thee John Price? What will I do?” You say it over dramatically.
“Nothing too risky I hope.” He replies, eyes crinkling at the corner.
“Maybe I’ll skydive.” You tease.
“Please don’t.” 
“Can’t promise.” You joke.
“You’re going to give me more gray hairs.” He said showing you the few already on his head.
“That’s exactly what I want, I love the grays.” And he loves you, but he can’t bring himself to admit it although it isn’t even something he can try to rid himself of at this point it has consumed him whole, sprouting colorful and beautiful things inside him.
“Movie time my darling up we go.” He says as he stands motioning for you to do also. 
This is something that has become ritual, dinner then movie. It’s the perfect unwinding time although sometimes most times it turns into more.
“You pick?” You say as you hand him the remote, getting comfortable at his side tucking your head beneath his big arm. 
“You’ll fall asleep half way through this.” He looks down at your already drooping eyes.
“No I won’t.” 
“You will.” He plays a show you two had begun the other week as he settles in more comfortably moving one of your legs to rest across him. 
He’s laughing unaware of just about everything as his whole body shakes, that’s until he notices you’re not and to his not so own surprise you’re passed out cold. 
——————
When you wake it’s sometime deep into the night. The tv shows its rest screen and John is sleeping. Unfortunately after a weak attempt at falling asleep you’ve decided you're no longer tired so you just lay there, hand beneath John’s shirt rising and falling with every breath he takes. The only noise to be heard is his heartbeat and the clock ticking. 
You begin to overthink the more time passes, you’ll be alone in just two days. The comfort and protection John brings you will be miles away. This warmth that fulfills your soul won’t be in your home any longer. It scares you, how much you want him around how much you love him. You wonder if this is as hard for him as it is for you or if it’s something he’s gotten used to. 
It’s overbearing, too much. You untangle yourself from him, sliding your leg over his body and onto the floor, stepping as lightly as you can onto solid ground.
You tiptoe to the kitchen and open the fridge for water. You lean against the counter before taking a sip out of the bottle breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. You’re zoned out completely so much that you don’t notice John come into the kitchen till he’s placing his hands on your hips. 
“You scared me.” You jump slightly as he offers you a sleepy smile. 
“What’re you doing awake?” 
“Can’t sleep.” You say not meeting his eyes.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asks. 
“thought you’d need as much good sleep as possible.” You say quietly, leaning your head on his chest.
“That’s not as important as you.” He rubs a firm hand onto your back pulling you close. He holds you like this for what seems like eternity and you relish in it.
“I’m going to paint for a little, please go lay back down.” He looks exhausted as you finally bring your eyes to him. 
“Come paint in my room.” He is tired but he’d rather be sleep deprived than have you anywhere but next to him. 
“What? You’re crazy, all my stuff is in the sun room.” You say with a small laugh.
“Then I’ll move it, I can’t sleep when you’re more than 5 feet away from me.” 
“Okay.” You know he won’t give up so you’ve learned to give in.
You simply watch as he picks up the heavy canvas and its easel hauling it across the house as you grab your brushes and paints and follow. 
He sets it dangerously close to his side of the bed, he even moves the nightstand over to the corner to ensure you have enough room. 
“Perfect.” He says after pulling his desk chair out of his office and over to it.
“Yeah actually it kinda is.” You smile. 
“Well, have at it.” He says giving you a firm kiss then walking over to the bed and getting comfortable. You sit in his very big but very comfortable desk chair and begin to mix colors in the small pallet that rests on your thigh.
“Goodnight.” He says pulling the chair towards him with an outstretched arm for one more kiss which you happily give. 
“Night.” 
—————
Released an hour early as a little surprise
It’s my best lol it’ll get better just getting back into my groove:)
As always love ya!!!
————-
@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppuff @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving
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faeridollz · 2 days
Note
Virgin reader and older price 🤭🤭
(Not creepily older tho)
Feel free to ignore tho xx
“Such a pretty face <3”
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Pairing; older!price x virgin!reader
Cw; price is in late thirties reader is in mid/late twenties ^^
Synopsis; your boyfriend is more than happy to help! But surprise!!! You’re a.. virgin? :(
A/n; kinda long so there’s a divider where nfsw starts!! Also dividers from @rookthornesartistry and @cafekitsune 💋
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ˏ ˋ°•*⁀➷ TINDER WAS CERTAINLY NOT A GOOD PLACE TO FIND “LOVE.”
You knew that. But at a party with your friends, you were forced to make an account. “Oh cmon Y/N, you're still single after all this time? You know, Mya found her husband a Tinder, you should download it! You never know, you could find a real hit!” She babbled, and when two more of your friends joined in, you were pure pressured into getting that stupid fucking app.
But.. should you really be that mad? You gained a boyfriend who’s a total dilf minus the kid. It’s pretty nice actually, treated like a princess 24/7 and loved on. You love that he’s older too, he teaches you things.
So when he offers to watch movies with you, who are you to deny? Time with your lovely boyfriend is all you need. Sitting next to him with his hand gently gripping and rubbing your inner thigh. It’s been driving you crazy since this dumb movie started.
“You alright lovie?” He smirks, and you nod. “Yeah.. j-just a bit hot y’know?” Your breathing is heavy, you can’t really focus on the movie. “I understand Lovie.” Grinning, he trailed his thick fingers to your clothed cunt. skirt lifted, providing easy access.
“Wait- price..” you squirm, thighs slamming closed. “What’s wrong?” He freezes. “Price. I’m a virgin..” you’re almost ashamed. You’ve never told him before and you’re saying it now? Ugh, this is so fucking embarrassing. Tearing up a bit
“Hey hey, don’t cry lovie, it’s nothin’ to be ashamed about sweetheart.” He cups your cheek, making you look in his beautiful blue eyes. They make you feel so safe, y’know? Just so calm. And god he’s so soft, husband material but stern when he needs to be. “It’s okay sweetheart, really.”
“Really? You’re not mad or anything?” Your head tilts. “Why would I be mad? That’s absurd lovie.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. Beard tickling your soft skin. “I dunno, It’s just kinda embarrassing.” You watch as his face falls. “It’s not embarrassing. I was a virgin too once, just like everyone else in the world. So please stop saying it’s embarrassing sweetheart. Because I swear, it’s not.”
He always seems to have a way with his words. It amazes you sometimes. “Tell me you understand sweetheart.” He nods, and you do too. “I understand love. And. I know you said it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but.. Can you uh.. touch me?” You aren’t too shocked when his eyes widen, followed by ‘Are you sure?’ Fuck this is embarrassing.
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His finger is thick, it’s expected but you never knew it could feel this good. “Feels good love?” You nod, he wanted to keep watching the movie, but he made sure to keep paying attention to you. Of course, he did. But how the hell did he expect you to pay attention to this movie? What was happening again? Shit.. it’s one finger but it feels so damn good. Curling up on your G-spot, the rope tightening in your stomach, threatening to snap.
“Fuckkk..” you whine, grinding into his hand. Breath quickened when he rubbed on your puffy clit. “I asked a question sweetheart, wouldn’t an answer be nice?” You can almost hear that cocky smile if that was even possible. But it makes you tighten around him, drenching his fingers. “g-good it feels soo~ good” shuddering when he speeds up.
“Ya think another finger would fit?”
“Y-yes- please!” Who knew you could be so whiney? Not you. But price makes you feel so good. And if this is just his finger then what if-
You let out a pathetically loud moan, how the hell did you not notice him putting another one of his thick ass fingers in you? It feels so good though, you. “Bloody hell sweetheart. So fuckin wet right? Feel good?” He nods. Moving slow, then picking up the speed a bit. “M-mhm!” You whine, the rope in your stomach finally snapping and your vision blurring a bit. Coating his fingers in creamy cum. Your cum.
Your gooey walls tighten around his fingers, hand gripping at his arm. “N-Nghhh..” you moan, shuddering as he gently pulls his fingers out of your drenching hole. His fingers were coated in a thin layer of cum. You think you may be hallucinating when he licks his fingers clean. “And tastes fuckin’ magical sweetheart.” He grins, kissing your neck. Your cunt is cold, the wetness attracting the cool air.
“Price.. you’re hard as fuck..” you giggle, his dick making a menacing print in his pants. Was it possible to be that big? You’ve seen it before in the shower and stuff but it was soft then. He’s really a grower.
Safe to say you ended the night with him passionately fucking your puffy cunt. After you followed him to your shared bedroom of course. Whining in his ear as he whispered sweet praises into yours. The prep was good too. Tongue fucking you and rubbing your clit until you were technically brain dead. Giving you time and waiting for the green light to continue. And the aftercare was one of a kind, nothing you shouldn’t expect from a total sweetheart.
He’d set a nice warm bath for you and massage your skin, even if he didn’t fuck you rough at all he’d still take care of you!! :)
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I got so carried away ughh!! 😭 but I really liked writing this 😆 reblogs and likes r appreciated!! Also if you too wanna submit an ask I would be more than happy to make you ask come true my love!
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