#i'm kidding about the green beans | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jordyn14 · 16 days

Text

Don’t Think, Just Do | Joe burrow

Summary: Right after Joes season ending injury, he decided to have Thanksgiving dinner like always with his family. During the dinner, It seems like everything had to go wrong before it could go right.

Pairing: Joe burrow x first person fem reader

Words: 4343

Notes: this fic takes place after Joes season ending injury, so if you’re not interested, please just skip. I hope you enjoy!! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

It was finally Thanksgiving, which meant for the entire day, the smell of delicious food flooded the house. Like most of us already know, Joe hates turkey, so for every thanksgiving we have been together for, ham has been on the menu. There was currently a ham in the oven, along with mac and cheese that was in the fridge waiting for me to put it in the oven, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, and cheesy potatoes, all of which Joe helped make. The entire day was spent making the foods for dinner tonight. On thanksgiving every year, there is always a semi big gathering. Among those people are Joe's parents, Joe's grandparents, and Joe's brothers and their wives and kids. Because of everything that's been going on and the stress of picking out a doctor for joes surgery, we were all a little unsure of how thanksgiving was going to be, but Joe insisted that it needed to be the same as every year, and this year, since we just moved into our new house, we were having it over our house.

Every single food on the menu was done and either in the oven or in the fridge that was going to be heated up prior to dinner, so right now Joe and I were making the dough for the pumpkin pie. Usually I would stick to the lazy and easy side of things and use a premade crust, but since it was thanksgiving and Joe deserves it, I was making a homemade crust. Because we made sure to start everything early, we were right on track to have the pumpkin pie in the oven just in time for the guests to start arriving since everyone came about an hour or two before we ate dinner. In the background, the song New Person, Same Old Mistakes, by Tame Impala started to play from Joes speaker. Joe has some songs on his playlist that I don't like since I don't like a lot of rap songs, but he has a few that I really love, and this is one of them. I never knew about tame impala until he introduced me to them a few years ago, and now I love them.

I started to bop my head to the song and move my body to the rhythm of the song while putting the dough into the pie container. I moved my shoulders and body to the beat, and soon Joe joined in and started to dance with me a little bit. I couldn't help it, I loved this song. I grabbed the rolling pin that I set down after rolling out the dough and held it up like it was a microphone. "I can just hear them now, 'how could you let us down?' But they don't know what I found, or see it from this way round." I started to sing into my 'microphone' while dancing some more and walking around the island. "Oh yeah, now it's gettin' lit." Joe laughed and grabbed onto a spoon so he could sing the next lyrics. "Feeling it overtake, all that I used to hate. One by one every trait I tried, but it's way too late. All the signs I don't read. Two sides of me can't agree. Will I be in too deep?" Joe sang and gestured to me to sing this next part.

While we sang, we were a laughing mess. The both of us sucked at singing, although we loved to sing. "Going with what I always longed for...feel like a brand new person." I sang. "But you'll make the same old mistakes." Joe sang the next part that was quieter. "I don't care, I'm in love." I sang while making a little heart sign with my hands at Joe. I spun in a little circle and reached Joe who grabbed ahold of my hand and raised it above my head so I could spin. "Stop before it's too late, I know there's too much at stake." I sang. "Making the same mistakes." Joe sang. After he sang this, I prepared myself for the next high note and sang, "and I still don't know why it's happening." The both of us laughed, knowing I totally butchered the high note.

When the song was over and we sang pretty much the whole song, give or take a few lines that we missed while we danced, we went back to making our pumpkin pie. Once we were all done with it, Joe stuck it in the oven and I sat myself down on the island counter and kicked my feet while waiting, my stomach growling a little bit. Joe looked at me sitting on the island and started to walk my way. I spread my legs apart so Joe could step between them, so when he did, I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively and pulled him closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his soft hair. Joe put his hands on my waist.

"I love Thanksgiving so much, mostly for the food" I laughed. Joe nodded with a sigh and kissed my lips. "I love any day I get to spend with my wife." Joe said. My cheeks flushed red and butterflies soared through my stomach. "Damn, you fluster so easily." Joe said with a little chuckle. "It's the Joe Sheisty effect, I swear." I laughed. "Ah, okay, we can go with that." Joe joked. The both of us looked into each others eyes for a second too long until our eyes shifted to each others lips and then back up to each others eyes. After a few seconds, Joe leaned forwards and captured my lips in his. I turned my head to the right for easier access as our lips moved in perfect harmony, like they were made for each other. As we kissed, Joe slipped one of his hands under my shirt. I let out the faintest moan when his cold hands hit my skin, not expecting the cold, and I arched my back slightly.

With his hand under my shirt, he began to run his cool fingers up and down my back as we kissed. With the other hand, he brought it up and cupped my cheek. I ran my fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, down to his biceps, then his back muscles. Our hands explored each other's body's as if we hadn't touched each other in years and forgot what we felt like. Joe released my lips and began to kiss my jaw which then turned into my neck. Joe began to suck and kiss at my neck, making sure not to stay in one place too long and leave magenta marks. I sucked in a small breath at the feeling of his lips on my neck and leaned my head back slightly as Joe moved my hair out of his way. I repeatedly let out soft moans. I felt his teeth graze my soft skin before he got to the spot that always felt amazing. He began to suck and kiss even more, knowing this was my spot. I let out a few more soft moans, loving the feeling and not wanting him to ever stop.

"You are the most gorgeous woman in this entire universe," Joe said, taking his hips off of my neck for a second, "in any universe." His lips attached to my neck once again as butterflies fluttered their tiny wings in my stomach at Joes words of affirmation. I started to lift up my skirt for easy access while Joe leaned back slightly. Just as Joe started to unbuttoned his pants and unzip them, I heard a car pull into the driveway. "Shit." Joe and I said at the same time. "Shit." We both said again once we realized what we were about to do. Joe zipped his pants back up quickly while I situated my panties and then jumped down from the counter. We both laughed at how in sync we were and then I looked down at Joes hard-on. "Do you think you can really be in front of your family like that?" I asked Joe with a small smirk, knowing he didn't fully realize yet. He probably felt it, but didn't realize how bad it was. "What do you mean? I thought you liked this shirt." Joe said. I couldn't help but laugh at Joe and how he was so unaware of what was going on. "Do you really want your family to know what we were doing before they got here?" I asked Joe.

Joe just raised an eyebrow out of confusion and said, "how would they know?" I slapped my forehead a little bit and then said, "you have a fucking boner Joe." I started to laugh when Joes eyes got all wide and looked down to see the tent in his pants that was gradually getting bigger. "Shit." Joe said quickly and covered himself with his hands. "Go upstairs and take care of...that," I said, gesturing to the tent in his pants, "and I'll go get the door for whoever is here and tell them that you spilled something on yourself and needed to change." I said. "This is your fault." Joe said with a little laugh as he started to run up the stairs. "What? You started it" I laughed. Just as I started following Joe to the stairs that were near the door, someone knocked at the door. "If you weren't so gorgeous, I wouldn't get horny." Joe said just before he turned and started to sprint up the stairs.

I shook my head with a laugh and then walked to the door. I unlocked it and then opened it up to greet whoever was standing outside of it. My face lit up when my eyes landed on Robin and Jimmy, who of course were the first ones here, like always. "Hello my favorite daughter in law! Oh, the house looks amazing!" Robin said and pulled me into a ginormous and tight hug. "Thank you!" I said and smiled at Jimmy who was looking at the place with a big smile on his face. After I hugged Robin, I hugged Jimmy and then I invited them inside. After I invited them in, Jimmy was holding in a laugh on the side of Robin who started laughing. "What? Come in!" I said, excited that they were going to be in this house for the first time since it's been decorated since we just moved in a week ago.

"I think you got a little something on your, uh-chest." Robin said, her face slightly red from laughing. I looked down at my chest to see Joes hand print he made with the flour that I was totally oblivious to. I brushed the flour off of my shirt as fast as I could while my face flushed red out of embarrassment. I moved to the side so Robin and Jimmy could walk in and then shut the door behind them with a little sigh and said to myself, "you're an idiot." When I turned back around, I gave a quick smile to Robin and Jimmy who were still calming their laughter after what they saw. "Where's my son? Don't tell me he's playing video games." Robin said. "He's upstairs changing, he spilled something on himself." I said. "Flour?" Jimmy said with a laugh.

With a little groan and then a laugh, I walked past them and they followed me to the living room. Because I knew more people would want to see The house in its entirety, I waited to give the tour of the house until everyone showed up. When Joe came down, he greeted his parents and then one by one, more people arrived. First, it was Jamie and his wife Stella, and their son Justin, and then Dan and his wife Jenna, and their daughters Penelope and Emily, then Joe's grandparents. Once everyone was here, I gave them a tour of the house while Joe got all of the food ready and brought it to the dining room table. Through most of the tour, there were ooh's and awe's, especially in the game and bar area downstairs and the movie theatre. When we were done with the tour, we made our way to the living room where we talked for a little bit and then we finally decided it was time for dinner.

We all sat down and started eating right away, all of us starving because we made sure to save lots of room for food. There were conversations all around the dinner table between multiple different people, but I was currently talking with Jenna and Robin about Jenna's new therapist job that she just got. She was working for a smaller company, but after a lot of consideration, she decided to move to a bigger company. "I was just unhappy at my old job and this new one offers a lot more than the other place...and the money isn't bad either." Jenna said with a little smirk and head tilt at the end. "Girl go get that bag. Plus, life's too short to be miserable in any aspect of it." I said with a little shrug, justifying her decision. "Amen to that." Robin said and pretended to cheers her wine and then took a hearty sip.

As the dinner went on, I noticed that Joe started clenching his jaw next to me, obviously agitated by something. I was initially worried that his hand was bothering him, but realized that for a lot of the dinner, Jamie has been constantly talking about Joe's injury. He wants to know more about it like where he's getting the surgery, if he knew he was done for the season when he felt it pop, how much it hurt, among other things. Also for a lot of the dinner, Joe's been trying to change the subject by giving short responses and then talking about something else, but it always came back to Jamie asking about the injury or football in general. "How is rehab going to work this time? You going to the same place in Cali like you did with your knee or staying here?" Jamie asked Joe. From the end of the table closest to me where Robin was, and the other end where Jimmy was, I could tell they knew Joe was agitated, but it seemed like Jamie couldn't tell.

The last thing I wanted was for Joe to blow up or say something that would make Jamie mad. Then that would lead to Jamie getting upset, and then the whole night would be either ruined or just awkward. "Yeah, I don't know. Still trying to figure that all out." Joe said, his voice sounding upset and annoyed. When Joe said this, he reached up and started rubbing the back of his neck, clenching and unclenching his jaw some more. Glancing down, I reached for his hand in his lap and then gave it a small squeeze when I got it in my hand. Joe glanced at me with a small and thankful smile before looking straight ahead so he could take another bite of his food. "Did you know right away how bad it was?" Jamie asked him from across the table. Instead of answering his question this time, Joe adverted his attention to his dad and asked him something that I couldn't quite make out.

Since Joe got away from the football talk, I turned my attention back over to Robin, Jenna, and Stella since we were all talking about the house. "Hey mommy?" Emily asked who was sitting next to Jenna. "Yes sweetheart?" She asked and tucked a piece of hair behind Emily's ear. "Can I have more stuffing?" She asked. "Of course you can." Jenna said and scooped some more stuffing on her plate. I smiled down at Emily who shoved a ton of stuffing into her mouth while looking at me. "How do you think the Bengals are going to do without you?" Jamie asked. Whipping my head over towards Jamie, I was about to say something but Joe smashed his left hand on the table, making everyone jump a little bit, shocked at his reaction. From the hard contact, all of the glasses on the table shook like crazy; I even grabbed onto mine just incase it decided to tip over.

"Can we talk about something other than football for one god damn second?" Joe raised his voice. We all looked at Joe as he stood up from the table abruptly and then stormed out of the dining room and towards the living room. I watched Joe walk away before he left my sight. The only thing I heard other than our forks dropping on our plates was the sliding back door open and then close with a lot of force. With a little sigh, I turned my attention back towards the table where everyone was trying to act like nothing happened and continue thanksgiving dinner. From everything that was going on, I felt tears prick my eyes. Trying to keep myself from crying, I lifted my hand up and put it under my nose, trying anything to calm myself down. Robin, seeing that I was a little emotional, reached over and grabbed my hand, giving it a little squeeze. Looking over at her, she gave me a reassuring smile.

"Geez, what did I do? I didn't think I said anything bad." Jamie said while he wiped his mouth off. From across from him, his grandparents and wife were about to say something to Jamie, obviously angry with him, but I intervened. "This is his second season ending injury in 4 years, he is frustrated right now, and talking about football doesn't help. The only reason he told me that he still wanted to have this dinner was because he thought it would be a good way to forget about his injury, but instead, that's all you're talking about. Put yourself in his shoes and cut him some fucking slack, Jamie." I said. I dropped Robins hand that was holding mine and left the table, storming off just like Joe did. "What the hell are you thinking, Jamie?" I heard Jimmy ask Jamie. "Please wait." Robin called after me as I walked out of the dining room.

After I walked out of the dining room, I headed towards the back door so I could go to Joe and see if he was okay. As soon as I looked outside, I saw Joe sitting down on the couch which was surrounded by the other patio furniture we needed to prepare for winter. Joe was staring straight ahead. Looking at his expression, I could tell he was upset but trying to hide it. Ever since his injury, he’s been closed off, which is typical for him during an injury. We haven’t even really talked about it yet because I always let him come to me instead of me pushing him to talk to me about it. As soon as I slid the door open a little bit, Joe immediately looked up to see who was walking outside. When he saw that it was me, he gave me a small smile and scooted over so he was on one side of the couch and then patted the side next to him, wanting me to sit next to him. "Why didn't you stay and eat? You didn't have to come out here." Joe said.

I walked over to him and then sat down right next to him. Once I did, Joe put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. "Yes I did, plus, I kind of went off on your brother, so it would've been awkward if I stayed." We both laughed for a few seconds before I rested my head on Joes shoulder. There was a moment of silence before I spoke up, "are you okay?" I asked Joe. There was a definite sigh from above me as I pulled away slightly to look into his eyes, but we both kept our arms around one another. I could tell that he was carrying a lot of stress and anxiety. He was tensed up and doing his best to hold back, but I knew if I put a little bit of pressure, the flood gates would open up, and that’s what he needed right now. He needed to talk about it.

"Are you okay?" I repeated as a tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek only to get caught by my hand that quickly wiped it away. As I looked into Joes eyes, I noticed that he was trying his best not to cry, but I knew he wanted to. I knew he wanted to open up and talk about his pent up emotions but was struggling to. "I'll be fine. After my surgery I'll get back at it, just like with my knee." Joe said, but his bottom lip started to quiver slightly. His voice was shaky, his eyes were glistening with tears, and his breathing was heavy and uneven. He was trying so hard to hold back. "Joey, tell me how you really feel, it's okay." I said and ran my fingers through his hair slightly.

With a gentle shake of his head, Joe bit his bottom lip to hide the small quiver and said, "I can't feel sorry for myself, and I don't want you to feel sorry for me either." I brought my hands up and cupped the sides of his cheeks, making him look over at me. “Opening up and showing a little bit of emotion doesn’t mean you have to feel sorry for yourself. This is a big deal, Joe, and holding back your emotions is only going to make it worse. You have to let it out before you can move on." I said. Joe took a deep breath and sealed his eyes shut. His shoulders dropped low and he eventually let a few tears slip from his eyes which rolled down his rosy cheeks. Joe let out a shaky breath and bit the inside of his cheek. “I just came back from an injury...I just started to feel 100% again and was ready to prove that to everyone," Joe started to say, "Now I'm out for the season, and it feels terrible. I feel like I was just down on the field after fucking up my knee and missing the rest of the season, now I have to miss the rest of this season." Joe said.

"I get it, Joey." I said, encouraging him to keep going. "This past offseason and training camp I was supposed to be healthy, but I hurt my calf. So, I hoped that this next offseason and training camp I would be 100% healthy, but once again, I won't be. I will have to go back to rehab for yet again another injury...but this time I don't even know if I'll get 100% of my strength and grip back." Joe said, more tears escaping his eyes as he poured out all of his emotion that he had, until there was nothing left. Joe said everything that he was keeping bottled up inside of him. After staring at the ground for a few seconds, he finally looked up and into my eyes. We held eye contact for a few seconds. We both didn't move, we just looked at each other while we both cried and took deep breaths. "It's going to be okay." I said.

"How do you know?" Joe asked me. With a deep breath, I said what I truly felt. I let my heart instead of my head do the talking. "You are Joseph Lee Burrow. You came back from your hand surgery and being the backup to the backup. You came came back from your sprained knee. You came back for the first game of the season after appendix surgery just a few months prior and made it to the AFC championship. You played with a messed up calf and still managed to pull out some wins. You tore your ACL, MCL, and PCL your first ever year in the NFL, worked your ass off every single day to get better and made it to the Super Bowl. The fucking Super Bowl, Joe. You are incredible and there is nothing you can't do, I believe that and everyone else does too. You should to. No one is expecting you to be 100% right now, so you can sulk for a little bit, because this sucks. I know it does. I know how hard it is to be in this spot again after everything you've conquered. I also know that when you're done sulking, you're going to grind and work hard every single day until this is a thing of the past." I told him.

"You are so strong Joseph Lee Burrow, physically and mentally. I know you will work hard and never give up on rehab, no matter how hard it is for you. It's hard? Suck it up. You’re strong enough to do this. And I'll be here every step of the way just like always. All you have to do is believe in yourself." I said. "I just keep worrying and thinking that-" Joe started to say but I cut him off. I placed my forehead on his and said, "Just Stop thinking, Joe. Don't think, Just Do.” I started to stroke Joes cheek as he processed everything I said, and then he said, "You said that to me about colleges on our first date and when I was on the fence about LSU and when I hurt my knee and then after the Super Bowl." Joe smiled slightly. "Exactly, now look where you are. What's another setback?" I asked him. Joe took a deep breath and nodded a little bit while maintaining eye contact with me. "Alright." Joe said.

259 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 6 months

Text

Thanks for the Help - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

A collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs, who I'm eternally thankful for 💛

Summary: The first Thanksgiving as Eddie's girl comes with some unexpected pressures, but also some unexpected kindness.

Note: Happy Thanksgiving!

Words: 5.9k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Did I already get all the ingredients for the green bean casserole out? Oh God, did I set the oven to the right temperature for the turkey? I’m missing a vegetable. What am I missing? Jesus, did the carrots just disappear?

Frantic is an understatement for how you’re scrambling about the kitchen, trying to do twenty things at once. Sure, you’ve cooked meals for people before—hell, you’ve cooked many meals for the Munson family before. But this is Thanksgiving. Arguably the most important meal of the year. You refuse to screw it up.

What if the boys are disappointed in your cooking? Of course Eddie would say he enjoyed it no matter what, but you want the truth. The boys are good with the truth—for the most part, anyway. Luke can be brutally honest at times. Some days it’s refreshing, some days you wish the kid would keep his mouth shut when he says that the skirt you're wearing is an “old lady skirt.”

Eddie is useless in the kitchen—occasionally detrimental. The boys are too young to be of any great help to you, either. It’s all on you. You’re either going to sink or swim, you’re just having some issues getting into the water.

This is the first Thanksgiving that the boys aren’t spending with both of their parents. Both you and Eddie were curious how they would react to this, but they don’t seem to be deviating from their usual, cheerful selves at all. Part of you is worried they’re going to compare your cooking to Brittany’s. Will they wish their mom was here cooking instead of you? No, you know with absolute certainty that isn’t the case. Even if they do prefer Brittany’s cooking to yours, there is no way they would want their mother here instead of you. Not to mention that Brittany had scampered off to California to visit her family. Eddie tried to have the conversation with her about where the boys would go, but she just rolled her eyes and told Eddie she already had plans. No Brittany already makes this Thanksgiving better than any he’s had in years.

For you, this only added pressure—not only were you cooking an entire Thanksgiving dinner, but you also had to ensure that Luke and Ryan weren’t distraught over this abrupt change in family traditions. Eddie has told you many times not to be nervous, but since when did that work for anybody? “Don’t be nervous.” Oh great, thank you for the advice, I’m not nervous anymore!

Last night as you were getting into bed, Eddie could tell you were on edge and tugged you over to lay on his chest so he could hold you.

“What’s going on?” he’d asked.

You hadn’t said it out loud to him yet. You knew you could, it’s just embarrassing. Plus, Brittany was never a pleasant topic to discuss. But this is Eddie; you could bare your soul to him, and he’d still be there holding you.

“I’m scared that I won’t be able to cook as good of a meal as Brittany and the boys will be disappointed,” you’d admitted.

Eddie let out a heavy sigh and softly rubbed up and down your back.

“Sweetheart, half the time we were at one of her relative’s houses, anyway. Brittany only cooked Thanksgiving a handful of times. You cook far better than she does. The boys are so happy to have you with us this year. I’m so happy to have you. Plus, I’m the alternative here. Anything you make will be a masterpiece compared to whatever I’d come up with.”

His words had soothed you a little, but when you woke up this morning, the dread still slithered throughout your chest. You feel a bit more relaxed when you see two sleepy-headed boys coming down the hall in their pajamas. Luke’s curls are a mess—more so than usual. And Ryan has a few sections of his hair that are standing straight up. What do these kids do in their sleep?

“Good morning,” you greet them.

“Mornin’,” Ryan mumbles. You only get a half-hearted wave from Luke in response.

“You guys want some cereal?” you ask. It might be a nice break from searching for ingredients and running around in circles.

“S’the parade on yet?” Luke asks before letting out the longest yawn that you’ve ever heard.

“About seven more minutes, bud,” you tell him. “Cereal?”

“Yes, please,” Ryan says.

“Sure!” Luke adds.

You turn to Eddie, who is leaning up against the counter and inspecting his fingernails like he has not a care in the world. “Um, babe?”

“Ya?”

“Can you get the boys their breakfast?” The request is terse, your anxiety amplifying your frustration that he’s taking up space in the kitchen without doing anything.

Eddie throws Lucky Charms and milk in plastic bowls and brings them over to his sons, flipping through the channels until he gets to one showing the parade. Ryan and Luke buzz with excitement as the New York Fire Department kicks off the event, oversized balloons trailing not far behind.

“I could be one of those balloon string people,” Luke says as a gigantic Garfield floats by.

Ryan rolls his eyes. “It would carry you away,” he answers with a smirk.

Luke’s eyes light up, excited by the prospect of this impromptu voyage. “Where?”

“Over the rainbow. In Munchkinland,” Ryan deadpans, crunching on his cereal.

“Hey, Scarecrow, Tin Man, be nice,” Eddie says and picks up a couch pillow to bop each of them on the head with from behind, making his way back over to where you’re prepping veggies.

He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your hips. “Baby, did you even have breakfast yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar,” you say distractedly, trying to find the right page in a cookbook.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles. “Sweetheart, come on. Sit down with me. Eat something.”

“I have to get the turkey in the oven and get everything else prepped so I’m not scrambling for ingredients…” you explain, closing a drawer with your hip.

He laughs kindly. “And you will, right after you eat an actual meal. You won’t be much of a chef if you faint.”

“Just let me make sure I have all the ingredients for the green bean casserole. I know it’s in this damn book somewhere.” You lick your forefinger as you flip through the pages on a mission to find the recipe.

Eddie sighs and drops his forehead down to your shoulder. He knew you were going to put too much pressure on yourself today, even after he tried to explain to you last night that there’s no reason to stress about anything. At this point, any further reassurance would likely be a waste of breath, so he just grabs a slice of carrot and absentmindedly pops it in his mouth.

You can no longer hide your frustration, even if you wanted to. “Eddie, what the hell?” Anger seeps through your gritted teeth when you chastise him.

“Hmm?”

For fuck’s sake, you think, sighing in annoyance. “You’re eating the ingredients!”

“It was one carrot slice!”

When you glare at him, Eddie puts his hands up in surrender and starts to back away, nearly bumping right into Ryan.

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head when his oldest son drops his empty bowl in the sink. “Kitchen’s gonna have enough going on today. Wash your bowl and put it away, please.”

Ryan does as he’s told, though his mind wanders back to all the things he learned about Thanksgiving at school this week. He looks over at you while you prep the turkey, a huge grin on his face.

“Did you know they don’t think there really was a turkey at the first Thanksgiving? Oh! And the first Thanksgiving lasted three days!”

You’re only half listening as you focus on basting the bird up with butter, careful not to miss a spot.

“That’s pretty cool, Ry,” you say with half-hearted enthusiasm.

“And they think there were only five women there. That’s crazy!” Ryan continues.

Luke wanders into the kitchen and Ryan tells him what Eddie did—to wash and put away his bowl. He does, but not as willingly or thoroughly as his brother.

Once the boys go back out to watch the rest of the parade, you breathe a sigh of relief. Now maybe you can chop the rest of the carrots without accidentally slicing a finger.

The agitation that’s built up in you over the course of the morning starts to abate as you’re able to get a few tasks accomplished. You wash your hands in the sink, hoping the lemon scent of the soap will take some of the stench of onion off of them. As you turn around to grab a paper towel, Ryan strolls back into the kitchen. You hate the surge of irritation that floods through you. Ryan didn’t do anything wrong; he’s just walking around his own home.

“Can I help?” he asks, adorable smile on display.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you say as you look around at all the supplies spread out on the countertops. Anything that needs to be done next involves a knife, the oven, or stove. Nothing that Ryan is old enough to work with. “I’ll let you know when there’s something I need you for, okay?”

“Okay,” he says with a shrug.

Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. Maybe now he’ll go back out with Luke or go bug Eddie. But he stays in the kitchen, bouncing around on the balls of his feet as he looks at the different ingredients that are out.

“President Lincoln is the one who made Thanksgiving a national holiday. In 1863!”

Two things you would never do are tell one of the boys to shut up or discourage them from learning. The little devil on your shoulder wants you to do exactly that, though. Before you can say anything, Luke skips into the kitchen and glides over the linoleum floor with his socked feet. He pushes past his older brother to be closer to you.

“We learned all ‘bout the Mayflower! And the Pur…purit…purg…uh…” he trails off.

“Puritans?” you say, tone harsher than you intended. Luckily, neither of the boys notice.

Luke pipes up this time. “I made a pilgrim hat in school, but then it, um, it broke.”

Ryan cocks a curious eyebrow. “It broke? How?”

“I sat on it.”

Eddie sees the boys getting underfoot and swoops in. “Parade’s back on,” he reports, ushering them back over to the couch before spinning around to face you. “I can help chop, if that’ll help.”

You begrudgingly agree, handing him a knife and a butternut squash.

He hasn’t even been at the task for two minutes when he yelps, “son of a bitch!”

You jump, startled by the sudden noise. “Wh-What?” you ask at the same time the boys call out, “swear jar!” in unison.

“Cut my finger,” Eddie mumbles, shoving his forefinger in his mouth while you huff and grab a paper towel. “Jeez, it was an accident. What’s going on with you?”

You massage the bridge of your nose, feeling like you have three kids in the house instead of just two. “Nothing,” you reply, fist clenched, “just…go put a Band-Aid on.”

With his dad occupied in another room, Ryan wanders into the kitchen.

“Did you know that female turkeys don’t gobble?”

Did you know that this female human is about to lose her patience? You keep the snark to yourself, though part of you thinks your tongue will fall off with how much you’ve been biting it today.

You’re the first one to listen to what the boys did in school, what they learned, and help them with their homework. You read with them, quiz them, even hit them with your own trivia tidbits. On any other occasion you’d absolutely love this. But now? Now it’s grating on you like sandpaper against your skin.

“It’s a commercial,” Luke announces as he joins the gang in the kitchen. He stays quiet for a moment, and with your back to him since you’re checking the potatoes on the stove, you think he may have left, but then you hear, “can we get McDonalds?”

Luckily, Ryan answers for you. “No, it’s Thanksgiving!”

“Oh. Right.”

When Eddie returns, one of the boys’ SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aids wrapped around his finger, he presses a kiss to your cheek. You start to smile, feeling yourself relax until you watch him skim some of the fried onions for the green bean casserole.

“Boys, do you wanna help?” Your palms tightly gripping the edge of the countertop is the only thing keeping you from imploding.

“Yes!” Luke begins to jump up and down, flashing a gigantic smile.

“What can we do?” Ryan asks, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder to prevent him from going airborne.

You muster up all of the enthusiasm you can, which isn’t much. “It’s a very important job. Are you guys up for it?”

“Yeah!” they cheer in unison.

“Okay.” You lean in as though sharing a precious secret. “I need you to be my little security guards. Your dad,” you gesture to Eddie, “has sticky fingers and keeps stealing ingredients. Can you two keep an eye on everything to make sure he doesn’t take anything else?”

“Aye aye!” Luke salutes like he’s taking orders in the military.

“He’ll never get past us!” Ryan promises.

Eddie raises his fingers from behind them. “And, um, what can I do?” he asks.

“You wanna help? Uh…set the table?” you offer with a shrug.

You can vaguely hear him mumble under his breath about that being a kid’s job; the boys hear it, too, and they laugh.

“It’s like you’re the kid and we’re the grown-ups!” Ryan giggles. Eddie ignores him and puts down placemats.

Both Luke and Ryan take their job very seriously; every time Eddie even looks in your direction, they’re on high alert, shooing him away. This gives you a bit of peace and allows you to accomplish more tasks than when you had three Munsons trampling through the kitchen like wildebeests.

The apartment buzzer rings, followed by a cheery, Southern accent-twanged, “it’s me!”

“GRANDPA!” Luke shouts, bolting for the door. He buzzes Wayne in while Eddie reaches over his head to unbolt the lock.

Wayne walks through the door a few minutes later, carrying an apple pie just as he promised. His brows crease when he takes in the sight of you practically tripping over the boys in the kitchen, trying to do everything yourself.

“You’re not helping her?” he asks his nephew, a slight accusation in his tone.

Eddie holds up his bandaged finger. “I’ve been banished.”

Wayne pulls him aside, dropping his volume to a whisper. “I’ll work on dinner. You go cheer up your girl before she starts to cry.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Cheer her up, like…right now?”

Confusion contorts Wayne’s mouth for just a moment. “What…oh, Jesus. Not like that. Just give her a pep talk.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “What are you, a goddamn animal?”

“Take a break, darlin’.” Wayne says, turning to you. “I can handle things in here.” This much you know from his countless stories as an army cook.

With the eldest Munson controlling the kitchen, Eddie takes the opportunity to pull you aside, into the bedroom. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Can you take a deep breath for me, babe?” He smiles when you inhale for three seconds and then exhale slowly. “Look, I know you want this to be perfect, but I’m gonna love you whether we have the fanciest dinner or PB&Js.”

You try your best to listen to him, but there’s still this nagging sensation in your brain. “But the boys—”

“Sweetheart, they think Kraft mac and cheese is the pinnacle of fine cuisine. They just want to spend time with you.”

You nod, logically knowing that Eddie is right, but your mind still not fully accepting it.

“I want to make it the best it can be for them.”

Despite your stressed out and anxious state, Eddie can’t help but smile. It’s an adoring smile as he pulls you against his chest. He presses a few soft kisses to the side of your head before resting his own against it.

“I love how much you love them,” he says. “You know what would make this the best Thanksgiving for them? Including them, just like you did. I know they had to be driving you up the wall, but you didn’t tell them to quit it or get out. Instead, you gave them jobs and made them feel important. Princess, all they want—all we all want—is to sit around the table with the people we love and eat and laugh and just enjoy the time together.”

“That sounds lovely,” you admit with a dreamy sigh that makes Eddie chuckle.

“This is already my favorite Thanksgiving,” he tells you. ‘All my favorite people are under one roof. The delicious food you make is just going to be the icing on the cake.”

“We have pie, not cake,” you tease, poking a finger into Eddie’s chest. But your lips do quirk up in the approximation of a smile. Eddie takes this as a win and gives you a big smacking kiss on your forehead.

Wayne has a well-oiled machine going when you walk back into the kitchen. He hardly even looks tired; he completely has control over the situation. Since Eddie was busy in the other room talking with you, your small security guards are apparently taking a break from their shifts.

Ryan is still spouting out facts to his grandfather about the holiday. Now, it makes you chuckle as you listen to him giving a history lecture. Between Wayne swooping in to be your hero and Eddie trying to calm you down, there’s less pressure on you. You’re able to appreciate the enthusiasm of the boys and how they’re getting into the spirit of the holiday. With one more deep breath, you know you’re ready to get back in the kitchen and work alongside Wayne.

“Grandpa,” Ryan says as Wayne checks on the turkey. “I’ll tell you this because I know Daddy won’t care. Football on Thanksgiving didn’t become a tradition until 1876!”

“Huh,” you muse as you open a can of green beans. “Do you know who it was between?”

“It was Yale and Princeton!”

Of course he knows that, too. Ryan never ceases to amaze you. You’re pretty sure he knows more now than you ever will. Maybe you could get him to help you with your statistics course that’s being a pain in the ass. You chuckle at the thought of Ryan attempting to explain the equations to you, getting frustrated every time you just stare at him in confusion.

Eddie walks into the kitchen and looks around, eyes landing on his eldest son.

“All I heard was, ‘Daddy won’t care.’ What exactly wouldn’t I care about?”

“Football,” Ryan says.

“You got that right,” Eddie says and musses up Ryan’s hair. “Could be worse though—at least it’s not basketball.”

Luke frowns. “Why don’t you like basketball?”

Wayne shakes his head like don’t get him started.

“All they do is shoot balls into laundry baskets! And they’re already, like, seven feet tall! It’s barely a challenge!” Eddie’s whiny protests are adorable, though it’s very clear that’s not his intention.

Luke shuffles over and whispers in Ryan’s ear, “I wonder if it’s ‘cause Uncle Steve and Uncle Lucas were on the team and were better than Daddy at it.”

The two children–or three really, with how Eddie’s been acting today–take their sports arguments into the living room while you and Wayne continue to cook.

“I gotta tell ya,” the older man says as he measures out the butter to put in the mashed potatoes, “I’ve never seen Eddie and the boys like this.”

“What, acting the same age?” you tease with a smirk.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head. “Wasn’t gonna be what I said, but that don’t come as a shock to me neither. No, I ain’t ever seen them so happy before. Not ‘cause it’s a holiday and they’re all excited; in general. They’re happier overall. And that’s ‘cause of you.”

Emotion tightens your throat. To know that Wayne can see from an outside perspective that Eddie and the boys are happier having you around? It makes you feel light as air, but you could also burst into tears. Not of sadness, or even happiness really, just tears of so much emotion building up inside of you. Luckily, you don’t have to come up with anything to say because Wayne continues talking.

“I know the two of ya haven’t been together that long,” Wayne says with a shrug, “but I can tell by the way you two look at each other.”

“He’s my person,” you agree, managing to squeak the words out.

“I can’t wait to be at your wedding someday,” he says, emotion clear in his voice as well. “Think I might be almost as excited as those two knuckleheads out there. The small ones, that is. Darlin’, you fit right in with our family.”

In all the time you’ve known Wayne, you’ve never heard him open up like this. To anyone, let alone you. The two of you made friendly conversation when you were still the babysitter and have had some pretty long conversations with one another now that you’re Eddie’s girl. But nothing like this. It makes you take his words even more to heart; you do fit in with this family.

“That means a lot,” you say in a soft voice. Shyness suddenly creeps up in you. “I just want to make this extra special for all of them, especially now that they don’t live together full-time.”

A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, startling you.

“Mine.” Eddie punctuates his declaration with a kiss to your cheek. You giggle and turn around in his arms, only to find he’s snagged a green bean from the bowl.

“Eddie Munson, I swear to God!”

The nerves that had dissipated over the course of the day start to work their way back up as all the food is set on the table and everyone begins to take a seat. You have no doubt that some of the dishes will taste great, but those would certainly have been made by Wayne. If anything on the table is bad, you’re sure that will fall in your lap.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie slips an arm around you and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers.

You follow his instructions and take your seat at the table, right next to Ryan. Eddie’s seat is at your other side, the head of the table–if it could even be called that with a table this small.

Everyone but your boyfriend is seated, but Luke looks like he’s ready to dive headfirst into the sweet potato casserole. When the turkey had come out of the oven a little while ago, Eddie asked if Wayne wanted to have the honor of carving it. His uncle just shook his head and told Eddie that’s his job now.

Now, Eddie stands in front of the turkey, and as you look up at him, you can see a smile quirking the corners of his lips. He clears his throat and looks out at his family sitting around him. Making a toast wasn’t something Eddie planned on doing today, but in the moment it feels right.

“So, uh, this Thanksgiving looks different for all of us this year. It’s been a bit of a weird year, but it led us to this. All of us being at this table right now with each other. Looking around at everyone’s faces I’m pretty sure everyone is smiling a little bigger, too.” Eddie lifts his glass. “My favorite people in the world are all right here with me. You all are what I’m most thankful for—not just today, but every day. So, cheers to a happy Thanksgiving.”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, and Luke makes sure that everyone has touched their own glass to everyone else’s. To no one’s surprise, Luke is also the first one to comment on the food once everyone has dug in.

“I wanna eat this food every day.” He shoves a forkful of green bean casserole in his mouth as if to prove his point.

“It really is great, sweetheart,” Eddie concurs. He reaches over and rubs his hand along your arm affectionately. Purely in a teasing manner, Wayne clears his throat, which leaves Eddie to add, “And you too, Uncle Chef Boyardee.”

Ryan’s too busy stuffing his face to speak, but it makes you chuckle at how focused he is on the food. Normally, Luke’s the one with that appetite intensity. He slows down quickly though, his eyes far bigger than his belly. His fork trails through some butter pooled in a small puddle on his plate when he gets an idea.

“Let's say what we’re thankful for! Grandpa first.”

“Easy,” Wayne says once he’s swallowed his mouthful of food. “Family.”

“New traditions,” Eddie says when Ryan points at him. Next, the finger is aimed in your direction.

“Love and acceptance.”

Eddie’s leg purposefully brushes against yours, so you gently tap your foot against his.

“I’m thankful for you!” Ryan grins up at you, two missing baby teeth only adding to his adorableness. He wraps both of his arms around your one and gives it a hug. “I’m so happy I get to see you more.”

“It makes me happy too,” you say as you rest your head against his, emotions once again threatening to get the better of you. “I have so much fun with you guys.”

Luke takes it upon himself to announce what he’s thankful for since all attention is currently diverted away from him.

“I’m thankful no one’s got scurvy, and for my dog,” the six-year-old announces.

“Luke, you don’t have a dog,” Eddie says.

The little boy shrugs before spearing a piece of turkey on his fork.

“That’s what you think.”

You, Eddie, and Wayne all share confused expressions that lead you to giggle, which in turn has everyone at the table laughing as well.

Eddie and the boys do most of the clearing of the table when everyone’s finished, since they didn’t cook, but you and Wayne pitch in as well. Right after Luke puts a dirty bowl in the sink, he gasps and bolts out of the room. If it were anyone else, one of you might question it, but it’s Luke.

He runs back in and slides to a stop right in front of you. The way he starts jumping up and down makes you worry that he’ll puke, so you gently rest your hands on his shoulders to keep him grounded.

“I made this for you!” He proudly brandishes a hand turkey he made at school. “I made it ‘specially for you!”

“For me?” you ask, your hand coming up to rest on your chest.

“Yes! I knew as soon as we started making ‘em in class, I wanted to give mine to you.”

This is the one. This is the straw that broke the camel’s back today that has the tears finally emerging. You bend down to give Luke a big hug, trying to hide the tears while doing so–you’re not sure if he’d understand that you’re crying for a good reason.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “I love it so much. Can I put it on the refrigerator?”

“Uh huh.”

You move a few scattered magnets out of the way to place the hand turkey front and center on the fridge. It gets held up with a magnet shaped like a heart–which Luke made at school for Valentine’s Day. While you’re busy admiring your new favorite art exhibit, Eddie and Ryan have left the kitchen and headed into the living room. You don’t even notice until there’s a crash in the room just a few feet away.

“We’re okay!” Eddie calls. “Just a VHS avalanche.”

Chuckling to yourself, you walk out of the kitchen and tilt your head in curiosity.

“What’re we watching?”

Ryan holds a VHS up over his head in triumph, leaving Eddie to be the sole person to clean up the avalanche of fallen movies.

“A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!”

Luke comes into the room behind you and taps your hip to get your attention. “Are you going to watch the movie with us?”

“Of course I am,” you say, giving his curls a ruffle. “I love this movie. But I love you Munsons even more.”

A grin so bright lights up Luke’s face that it leaves you a little surprised. He looks more excited than when you told him he had most of this week off from school the other day.

Eddie gets up now that the VHS tapes are fixed.

“Why don’t you two put the movie in?” he asks as he walks over towards you. “Babe, will you help me put the pie in the oven?”

“Sure,” you say, a little confused about what he’d need help with. Opening the oven, putting the pie in, and then closing it seems like a pretty simple task.

Eddie takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen. He stops right in front of the oven and peeks over your shoulder to make sure the boys didn’t follow. When he sees the coast is clear, he rests his hands on your hips and gives you a small smile.

“You just looked a little confused about Luke’s reaction,” he says, before smirking and adding, “I may not be a competent cook, but I can put a pie in the oven by myself.”

“I’ll still be here for supervision if you need it,” you tease. “But yeah, Luke looked like someone just told him he was getting that dog, not that I’m watching a movie.”

Your boyfriend sighs and rubs his hands up and down your sides, letting his thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt.

“We watch The Charlie Brown Thanksgiving every year; it’s a tradition. Brittany never watched it with us, though. She’d either be too tired, had to make a phone call, blah blah blah… So, not only the fact that you’re watching it with us, but you’re happy to watch it with us is something new to him.”

Tears flood your eyes, and you feel your heart double in size in your chest. You’re pretty sure this day is going to kill you before it’s out.

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to him.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says with an adoring smile. “You mean that much to him. To Ryan. To Wayne! God damn, I thought the old man was gonna stick me in the oven when he saw how stressed out you were.”

You let out a soft giggle and take both of his hands in your own. “I don’t think Roast Eddie would have been as good as the turkey.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “I have it on good authority that I taste delicious.”

“You’re a perv!”

As if to prove your point, Eddie grabs your ass.

“Only for you, babe.” He laughs and takes a deep breath. “But I really am sorry that I stressed you out today. I’m so used to you having everything under control; it didn’t occur to me that you could’ve used my support.”

You nod and give the one hand you’re still holding a small squeeze. “It’s okay. And now we know for next year.”

Next year. Because you’re going to be here next year, and every year after that. You’re his girl, part of his family, and he intends to make sure it stays that way.

Eddie grabs the pre-made pie out of the freezer and pops it into the oven. He wipes his hands off on his jeans and takes full advantage of the two of you being alone to pull your body up against his. You think he’s leaning in for a kiss, but he leans in and licks the tip of your nose. The unexpectedness makes you giggle and wrinkle up your face.

“Are you sure you’re the older one in this relationship?” you question.

“Older, yeah. More mature? Never claimed that.” He gives your ass a playful swat before heading back out to the living room, you following along behind him.

Eddie plops down on the couch, Wayne already comfy in the La-Z-Boy recliner next to it. You sit down on the couch as well but leave space between you and Eddie in case either of the boys wants to sit there. Both manage to squeeze themselves between you, making both of you chuckle as you scoot toward the respective arms of the couch. Ryan is on the cushion with Eddie, while Luke sits by your side.

As Eddie hits play on the remote, Luke shifts at your side. He keeps moving and squirming around, never seeming to get comfortable. It’s not unusual for him to be a hyperactive kid but he’s usually ensnared by movies the moment they come on.

“You okay?” you ask him.

He nods twice and looks up at you, a hesitant expression on his face.

“Can you, um… Can I, uh…” He trails off, looking at your arm closest to him. It takes a moment for your brain to figure out what he wants. Happily, you lift your arm and give Luke a smile. He immediately curls into your side, and you wrap your arm around him. You have to take deep breaths to keep yourself from crying for what feels like the millionth time today. You’ve run the gambit of emotions these past twelve hours, so it’s nice to sit here and relax.

You look over and see Eddie watching the two of you, also grinning. Ryan is leaning into Eddie’s side, but not curled up and close like Luke is with you. Needing to express your emotions in some way, you lean down and press a kiss into Luke’s messy curls. His head pops up and he looks at you. Slowly, a big smile spreads on his face, identical to his father’s. Luke leans up and presses a kiss to your cheek before resuming his previous position tucked into your side. This time, a few tears do leak out–you’re just careful not to let them fall on the small boy.

As the movie gets going, you take a second to look at the others in the room; Wayne, relaxing with a can of Diet Pepsi in his hand and watching the movie. Eddie, the television screen reflecting in his big brown eyes. He grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and lays it across his and Ryan’s laps. Then Ryan, who pulls the blanket up to his chin and snuggles back against the cushions to watch the movie. Last but not least, little Luke. The mini-Eddie. A ball of energy one moment, melting your heart with his sweet words the next.

You smile to yourself and whisper, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, “God, I’m so thankful for you all.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

406 notes · View notes

hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year

Text

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 7: Stray Kids bias wrecker - Jisung✨️

The Heat

AN: We have reached the end of my milestone celebration! Thank you to all of you, new and old, for your support. You have no idea how much it all means to me <3 Time to end this celebration off with my other other arch nemesis lol.

Synopsis: When your roommate brings home a bag of strange cookies, you two don't think much of it. Assuming whoever sold them to him was lying about them containing an aphrodisiac. You both quickly come to realise that you were very, very incorrect.

Heads up: Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, Roommates AU, dub-con elements (because Reader and Jisung are under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but they do genuinely want each other), mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, nipple play (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little, Jisung cums pretty quickly, mentions of multiple orgasms, unrealistic sex (Jisung cums more than once and remains hard), hypersensitivity, some usage of a petname for Reader and a barely there praise kink (f. receiving).

Word count: 3658

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

"You'll never guess what I found!" Your roommate yells, all but slamming the front door open in his excitement.

"Hello to you too, Jisung," you respond dryly but, your curiosity is piqued. Angling yourself to get a better view of the brown paper bag in his grasp from your position on the couch.

"Sorry, hi. I'm just really hyped," he responds sheepishly, plopping down beside you, "but look!"

You're not sure what you were expecting, but a bag filled with cookies certainly wasn't it. "Uh, they look good?" You offer, not really understanding what makes these cookies in particular so special. The little pink hearts on them are very cute, you'll give them that much.

"No, no listen. These aren't just any old cookies. Minho and I stumbled across this kind of weird looking bakery, and the lady who runs it said these cookies are mixed with some really potent aphrodisiacs,"

Yeah, this is not how you anticipated your Saturday to unfold at all.

"So... you bought them from an apparently really shady bakery and just trusted what that lady said?"

Your words take a few seconds to register in his mind. Big eyes blinking at you owlishly. If he hadn't just admitted to something so stupid, you'd reach over to squish his cheeks because of how endearing he looks right now.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to drag your hand down your face.

"Minho should really stop enabling all of your impulsive purchases and ideas,"

"To be fair, he was the one who dragged me into the bakery. I just happened to stumble across these," he says, motioning to the bag now staring at the two of you on your coffee table.

"My point still stands. Why did you buy so many anyway? Why not just get a few if you just wanted to test them out?"

"They were running a special," he mutters.

"I didn't realise you were this naive. I have some magic beans to sell you if you're interested," you tease, grinning as the tips of his ears redden.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny. They weren't that pricey anyway so, luckily I didn't spend much," he reaches for the bag, fishing out a cookie.

"Woah hey, what're you doing?"

"Eating the cookies I bought? Like you said, I'm sure they're a scam, so I might as well eat them since I spent money on them," he responds with a shrug. Your anxiety building watching him take his first bite.

"Oh, they're pretty good, actually. Want one?" He asks, turning his big brown eyes onto you. Now, how are you supposed to say no when he looks at you with those eyes?

"If these are poisoned or something, I swear I'm going to haunt you," you respond, and your roommate takes that as a green light.

"We'll both be ghosts then. I don't think ghosts can haunt each other," he says with a laugh, the brushes of his fingers against yours feeling like electricity as he hands you a cookie.

You choose to essentially shove the cookie in your mouth to avoid dealing with that particular can of worms. Jisung was right. They are delicious. Flavours of strawberry with faint hints of chocolate caressing your taste buds. Maybe they were worth turning into a ghost for if the worst comes to pass, you think.

"See? They're good, right?"

"Yeah, I can't even lie. That's one of the best cookies I've ever had. If we survive this, you should show this oddball bakery to me,"

"Oh," and you immediately regret admitting to him that you actually liked it, "how the tables have turned. What was that you were saying earlier about reckless purchases?"

Rolling your eyes, you stand up in order to get ready for bed. Jisung's smugness more than enough motivation to finally get your ass off the couch.

"Goodnight Jisung," you say, waving him off.

"Goodnight," you don't even need to turn around to see the smirk stretched across his face. You can hear it clear as day.

Everything feels like it's on fire when you wake up the following morning.

You're absolutely drenched in sweat and your throat is beyond dry. Perhaps the oddest realisation of all is that you're wet. As in, obscenely so. Your thighs are smeared in it and you're almost certain it's leaked all the way onto your bedsheets.

What the hell?

It takes you some very long minutes to blink your bleary eyes open. Your muddled mind working a mile a minute to try and make sense of all of this. Last night hadn't been that hot so, there should be no reason why you're this sweaty. Plus, from what you can remember at the very least, you hadn't touched yourself before turning in for the night. So why in the world are you this wet? And more than that, why does it hurt so much more than usual?

'What is going on?' Is that question that echoes through your skull as you join the world of the conscious. You're due for a shower and a change of sheets, you think. You feel pretty disgusting at the moment, and a shower might just be what you need to help calm you down. An ice cold one.

On perhaps the strangest morning you've experienced to date, you don't expect to bump into a shirtless Jisung with a towel wrapped around his slim waist.

You've seen your roommate without a shirt more times than you can count at this point. However, it's never made you feel like this before.

The throbbing gets worse. So, so much worse. Warmth flooding your face when you feel yourself gush onto the fresh pair of sleeping shorts you'd just changed into. Jisung is an attractive man. A very, very attractive man. You've had no qualms with admitting that in the most private parts of your mind and on nights when images of him between your thighs are the only thoughts that can push you off of the proverbial edge.

But it's never been like this.

"Morning," he says gruffly. God, that just made it worse. If you weren't too lost in your own spiral, you'd notice his blown out pupils and the glassy quality to his eyes. How they shamelessly rake over your body. How he has to adjust his hold on his towel so you don't notice how hard he is. How hard he's been for what feels like hours now.

"Morning," you squeak back in response once your higher order functions return to you. Practically slamming the bathroom door in his face and, sagging against it once you're alone.

What is wrong with you?

Taking a shower was minimally successful. At least you're no longer drenched in various body fluids, but you still feel as though there's molten lava coursing through your veins. Everything is just so hot.

Touching yourself while you were in there didn't help either. If anything, it only added fuel to the inferno that seems hell bent on swallowing you whole from the inside out. Maybe you're just in desperate need of a good fuck. It has been longer than you care to admit since you last slept with someone. That Changbin guy was nice and ridiculously attractive. Perhaps you should give him a call.

You're disrupted from your thoughts when you hear a tentative knock at your bedroom door. Jisung. Oh no, you're not sure if you can handle looking at him right now, let alone being in the same room with him. Your mind has been replaying the encounter from this morning over and over again. Even that hadn't helped you cum in a satisfactory way. Which is insane because thinking about him works 11 times out of 10. You must really need to be fucked.

However, you're not a child. You're not going to avoid your roommate and your friend just because you're a little (okay, maybe it's more than a little) more sexually frustrated than usual. You're more mature than that.

"Come in," you say, cringing at the hoarseness in your voice.

To your relief (and mild disappointment), Jisung has a shirt on. Though, the way the tank top leaves his broad shoulders and biceps completely uncovered isn't helping the to soothe the squirming of your insides.

Jisung looks exactly how you feel: like a total wreck. His hair is in dissary and sticking to his damp forehead and his cheeks are flushed with an appealing dust of pink. You wonder if this is what he'd look like underneath you.

"What's up?" You croak, looking at your bedroom door as though it's the most interesting object you've ever seen. He may have a shirt on, but you're not sure you can handle looking at him for too long right now. For both of your sakes.

"Does it feel hot as fuck for you today too? I don't know what's been going on, but I already took two showers today, and I still feel like I might pass out from heat stroke," he says, making himself comfortable on your bed. While not out of the oddinary, having him so close to you is sending your barely coherent mind into panic. The desire to straddle his incredibly welcoming looking lap clawing at your insides.

"Yeah, it does feel a lot hotter than usual today. Maybe there's a ventilation issue or something in our place? Because I checked the weather and it the temperature for the day is on the cooler side, funnily enough," you respond, wiping some excess sweat off of your forehead. So, you're not the only one who seems to feel...off, weird even today. Whatever is happening appears to be affecting Jisung too.

"Really? That's so weird. I thought maybe there was a heat wave or something. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he sighs, throwing himself down. The bottom of his tank top exposing a sliver of his toned abdomen. Fuck.

Before your mind can assault you with fantasies of covering his abs in your wetness, that's when it hits you. Those damn cookies. They have to be the reason you're like this and that you suspect Jisung is experiencing something very similar.

"Jisung, I think I know why we're feeling so hot right now," you rush out, fingers absentmindedly toying with your blanket.

"Really? Well, I'm all ears," he responds, turning to give you all of his attention.

Fuck, how did you not realise it sooner? Jisung's eyes are almost black with how dilated his pupils are. Desire flashing like a neon sign on his face.

You really can't afford to soak through another pair of shorts right now. Focus.

"I think the cookies - I think the cookies weren't a scam," you mutter, hugging your legs to your chest. Your face is so warm that you're surprised the heat from it isn't radiating off of you.

He just keeps looking at you. You know the moment your words sink in because his face quickly shifts from a pretty, pink flush to an almost scarlet red. His mouth opening and closing as he grapples with what to even say to you.

"What? What makes you think that?" It's his turn to squeak and avoid your gaze. Seemingly fascinated with your ceiling.

"What else could it be? We both had them yesterday, and now we're sweating buckets and -" You cut yourself off. Jisung doesn't need to know you've been wet all day. You should probably keep that part to yourself.

However, the universe is determined to make you suffer, "And what?" He asks, meeting your eyes briefly before turning away. His teeth toying with his bottom lip.

"It-It's fine. Don't worry about it, but, um just trust me. I really think those cookies are the reason we're like this," You stutter out, studiously ignoring the lecherous thoughts creeping back into your mind.

Jisung doesn't say anything at first. Just laying there before sitting up once more, his hand ruffling his hair, "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know much of this I can take. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

That you can relate to. Intimately.

"The solution is pretty obvious," you joke in an attempt to lighten the thick tension in the air. It almost makes it difficult to even breathe properly.

Your words have the opposite effect, however. Startled, fiery brown eyes meeting your own. Jisung looks like he's seriously considering it, and you're not sure whether your stomach knots itself in hope or anxiety.

"Jisung, I was-"

"Do you want to?"

Now it's your turn to stare at him in stunned silence. Probably looking like an absolute buffoon gaping at him. Is he joking? Is this his way of getting back at you?

"Wha-What?" Comes your brilliant response.

"Do you want to?" He repeats, both looking and sounding deathly serious.

"You don't have to do this, you know. If you don't want to. We can j-"

"I want to," he interrupts again, his cheeks darkening, but he doesn't falter in his words.

Your very hot, very kind, very funny roommate is offering himself on a silver platter. Even if you weren't so wet you could die, you'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," you whisper, meeting his eyes head on. Your heart thundering against your chest as you watch him shift closer to you. Barely any space left between the two of you. You're not sure who moves first, and it ultimately doesn't matter because after months of fantasising about it, Jisung's mouth is finally on yours.

Maybe it's the cookies, but your first kiss isn't gentle or slow or sweet. It's fierce and messy and desperate from the very beginning. Your hands not sure where they want to settle themselves. Alternating between pulling on his hair, pulling the most delicious whimpers from him or steadying yourself on his muscular shoulders while you two fall deeper into each other.

The gasp that leaves your mouth when Jisung nestles himself between your thighs is loud and throaty. He's hard. So hard and so hot that you can feel the heat radiating from him even through your respective clothing. Jisung wastes no time in covering your throat and jaw in sloppy, uncoordinated kisses while he shallowly grinds his erection against you. Greedily searching for any semblance of relief he can possibly find.

"Ji-Jisung," you moan, arching into his touch when one of his hands gives your breast an experimental squeeze. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he groans against your neck between licks and nips, thumbing at your already hard nipple through your shirt.

"Re-Really?" You manage to ask through the fog. "Really," he responds, impatiently shoving your shirt up and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. To say you were unprepared for the sensation of being enveloped in his wet, warm mouth would be putting it lightly. You're so much more sensitive than usual. It might be the cookies, or it might just be Jisung. Probably a dangerous mixture of the two.

You've never cum just from having your breasts played with but, there's a first time for everything if the increasing wetness staining your shorts and inner thighs is any indication. Jisung, for his part, is content to spend hours with your tits in his face and in his mouth. Licking, sucking and fondling to his heart's content while he desperately humps your thigh. The dream, really.

He's about to whine when you tug him off of you, but he's shut up by your tongue being shoved down his throat. Your hands frantically pushing his tank top up and off of him until his bare torso is free for you to explore. Smiling into him when he whimpers at the way your nails rake across his skin. A pitchy 'fuck' greeting your ears when you accidentally brush one of his nipples. Oh. Interesting.

Kissing and touching him is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Jisung is fantastic with his mouth, and his firm chest is incredibly fun to explore. Figuring out which places garner you groans or whimpers or whines. Which ones make him grind into harder. Which leads to the other hand. You're so soaked and painfully empty, and kissing him isn't helping to soothe any of those flames.

"Jisung," you mutter against his mouth, your hands ghosting over the waistband of his sweats. Delighting in the way he shudders above you and his abdominal muscles jump under your barely there touches.

"Ye-Yeah?"

"I want you to fuck me, please," you whine into his ear, lightly biting down on his lobe, "it hurts."

Jisung exhales a very long sigh against your throat, "You're going to kill me."

A breathless laugh bubbles out of you when he pulls away to shove his sweats down. Any trace of humour vanishes quickly when his cock smacks against his toned stomach. He's so hard that it looks painful, flushed an angry shade of red, and glistening with pre-cum. You can't help but stare. Your walls clamping down harshly around nothing.

"I thought you wanted to get fucked?" He asks with an arrogant grin on his stupidly handsome face.

"Shut up," you respond, lifting your hips and letting your shorts join the heap of clothing on your bedroom floor. It's your turn to feel a little smug when Jisung's eyes zero in on your pussy. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life, and you're too far gone to have any semblance of self-consciousness or embarrassment.

Jisung returns to his position between your thighs before you can fire out any quips, his cock nudging your entrance causing your head to spin and a soft moan to slip from you. "Stop teasing," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his broad back.

"So-Sorry," is all the warning you receive before he very gradually starts sinking into you. god, it's never felt like this. Ever. With anyone else. Tears accumulate in your eyes, and a few roll down your face with every inch he pushes into you.

"Are you okay?" He asks lowly, kissing your cheek repeatedly and halting his movements.

"Yeah. Yes, Ji, I'm fine. Please don't stop," you practically moan, clawing into his back when he mumbles a curse and continues.

You can barely think, let alone breathe when he's fully sheathed inside of you. His cock pulsing inside of you violently and Jisung quivering above you, hushed moans of your name and whimpers being pressed into your shoulder. A whine hitting your ears when you squirm a little and tighten your hold around his waist.

"Wait, fuck. Wait, don't move," he moans, his hands grounding himself with his hold on your pillowy thighs. You struggle to comprehend his words. Everything is so muddled and overwhelming, and he just feels so fucking good, and he hasn't even moved yet.

At first, you assume Jisung's increase in sounds of pleasure and throbbing inside of you is just because he's as overwhelmed as you are. Every single nerve feeling like it's engulfed in flames. However, when his strained apologies register, you realise he came. Hot spurts of his cum flooding your eager pussy and open-mouthed kisses being pressed into your shoulder between apologies.

"Ji-Jisung,"

"I'm fuck I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. It just happened. Fuck you must think I'm so pathetic-"

"Jisung, stop. It-It's okay. That was really hot actually," you mutter, and you mean it. If anything, you're flattered that you managed to make him cum so fast.

"What? Really?" He asks, blinking down at him. His pretty eyes beyond fucked out and sweat dotting his face. God, he's so pretty. Your pussy clenching involuntarily.

"Yea- Wait, are you still hard?" You ask, only realising now that he's still nestled deeply inside of you despite the cum that's gradually starting to dribble out of you.

He looks as shocked as you. Seemingly not realising that his own cock hadn't softened in the slightest. "Holy shit," he breathes, thrusting into you experimentally, drawing a whimper and your nails biting into his back in reaction.

"Remind me to go back to that bakery," he utters into your throat. Giving you little time to adjust before picking up his pace considerably. Between your wetness and his cum, he fucks into you easily. Your combined noises of pleasure echoing throughout your bedroom while you two lose yourselves in one another.

You've been teetering on the edge for what feels like ages. All it takes is for Jisung to find your sweet spot for your eyes to roll into the back of your head and your back to arch into him. Your lovely, lovely roommate fucking you through it all and exploiting your newly discovered weakness.

"That's it, baby," he groans into your ear, his hands holding you firmly in place and making you take each and every thrust he gives you, "You're taking me so well. You're doing so good."

Those words are going to be replaying in your mind for the rest of your life.

Your mind is utterly blank as the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced wreaks your body. Your thighs shaking violently, and your hands holding onto Jisung for dear life while you tighten around him. Fuck. Fuck. You're so full, and it's so much, but not enough at the same time.

"More, please. Jisung, please. I want more," you cry out, not caring in the slightest about the pathetic, desperate edge to your voice. All you're capable of thinking about is cumming on his cock over and over again and, him filling you with his cum until it's still leaking out of you days later.

"I've got you, baby," he whispers, the pet name he's grown a fondness for causing butterflies to arise in your stomach.

"We're far from being finished."

#han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids smut #han smut #1k followers celebration day 7 #1k followers celebration #1k followers milestone

1K notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 5 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma]

Summary: Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death. Minor smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k

Author Note: Thank you for all the love and support around this series so far. It truly has been an awesome experience getting to create this storyline with you all. I'm excited to see how you all react as the chapters come out. Your concepts, theories and reactions are truly making my December that much better.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Turbulence…it can mean anything from a few little bumps to a catastrophic weather system that could knock your flying tin can right out of the air. In Surgery they call it a complication, the surgeons hit a snag, a bump in the road. Turbulence.

In your marriage, you called it Separation. One of the most unpredictable things about encountering turbulence is its aftermath. Everything’s been shaken up, undone, turned on its head. So you ask yourself time and time again, if you had the choice to avoid the plane crash, the turbulence altogether, would you take it? Would you play it safe and cancel the flight? Or would you get onboard and take your chances.

“Dad!” Little Lucy Seresin was just the spitting image of you and your grandmother. She was every bit you except for those big emerald green eyes. “Dad—!” You could see Jake making his way towards you and your three children through the crowd, all standing around your legs waiting for their father. The one who gave all three of your children those piercing emerald eyes that held what seemed like all the secrets in the universe. “Mum! Dads here! Dads here!”

“I see him sweetheart, there’s daddy.” You replied to your six year old, who, before you even had a chance to stop the only daughter of Jake Seresin, took off running across the crowded airport welcoming area towards her dad. You knew it had been far too long since Jake had been able to see his children, but you also knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The Navy was unpredictable as it was reliable.

“Hiya Lulu!” Jake smiled as wild as he could as he dropped to his knee to embrace the six year old human he’d helped create. “Oh I missed you sweetheart.” That much was true, Jake Seresin missed his kids every day that passed him by. You watched on with six year old Lennox by your side and two year old Samuel on your hip as Jake picked his daughter up and carried her back over to where you stood patiently waiting. “Lenny, how you going man?” Jake beamed as he tousled his eldest son's hair. “Far out kid, you shoot up any more and you’ll be taller than your mother.” You smiled at the dig unintentionally, before you knew you were smiling Jake had seen the corners of your lips turn upright into an unmissable smile.

“Mums says I’m growing like an inch a day because I eat all my green beans at dinner.” Jake took a moment to place Lucy back on solid ground before he came up back up to meet your gaze. It had been a few weeks since you had called Jake about your Christmas plans. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about them, deep down he wanted to tell you not to go. Deep down he was screaming at the top of his lungs for you to give him another chance, to come with him and the kids to his mothers for Christmas. But Jake knew better than to make a scene in front of the kids. But that didn't mean he couldn't be petty when he wanted to be just to get a rise out of you.

“Is that so?” Jake beamed that signature Seresin grin you’d fallen for back in college when he was captain of the football team and you were just that meek library dweller. He made you feel so much more than just the shy history buff you’d been back then, Jake Seresin had taught you a lot of things about yourself in the time you’d been his best friend and wife, now ex. Nowadays however you often caught yourself wondering if he’d miss you if you didn’t make it through the battle you were facing. The battle you hadn’t told anyone about except your mum. The battle that took all your strength to keep a secret close to your chest. The battle that was draining you or all your strength and energy. The battle that late at night you wish you could just end early.

Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Triple positive meaning that your specific cancer fed off oestrogen, progesterone and HER2 hormones. Lucky you right? Your first lumpectomy went rather well, but you were facing twelve weeks of chemotherapy treatment. Three oral tablets daily and two full days of IV sessions a week.

However, you were taking measures into your own hands as of tomorrow and were scheduled to be back in hospital for double mastectomy. You didn't want to wait and see if the cancer would spread and wanted every single bit out. But Jake was none the wiser about your medical status and assumed that you were off to Canada with friends for a white Christmas in Banff Alberta.

“Well—“ Jake carefully took little two year old Sammy from your grasp and placed his tied sleeping self on his own jean clad hip. “Mums are always right.” Jake quickly followed up as he looked down at Lenny. “There’s gonna be a ton of green beans at Grandma's house so you might overtake her quicker than anticipated buddy.” Jake gave the youngest of the three Seresin siblings a kiss on the cheek before he fully turned his attention to you. “Hey Hon—“ The way Jake stopped himself from finishing his sentence made your heart sink into the pit in your stomach. “Y/n, hey Y/n.” He corrected himself quickly as he picked up his duffel bag from the ground next to where he stood before you. “You look well.”

Oh if only Jake truly knew what you had to do in order to look well. The countless hours you spent throwing your guts up in the middle of the night. The sleepless nights that turned into days. The loss of appetite that had you dropping weight faster than you could blink. Your diagnosis had been quick but your symptoms had been even quicker to take over your daily life. You kicked yourself every day for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing alright—“ Things used to be so easy with Jake, now he was standing here before you in the middle of the airport bustling with people going to and from for the holiday season and you swore he looked like someone you didn’t even know. “The kiddos keep me busy, don’t you?” You asked Lucy as she reached out for your hand and looked at you like you were telling lies.

“Mums been sick.” She told her father confidently, like you weren’t about to die then and there on the spot from embarrassment. Little Lucy had a bad habit of throwing you and Jake under the bus with one another. “She said it’s just a cold, but she’s been sick for like four whole weeks.” Lucy didn’t know any better than what you had always told her, that you had the flu. A long flu at that. As soon as you’d get the kids off to school you’d head right back to bed and sleep. The medication your doctors had you on was pretty brutal, and chemotherapy didn’t help although you’d only just started that kind of oral treatment. It packed a punch you couldn't handle.

“Oh?” Jake frowned as the five of you all made your way through the airport and out towards the car park. “Mum didn’t tell me she was sick, if I had known I would have come sooner.” Jake looked at you like he was trying to read the lines on your face. He could tell you were tied, more than normal—but despite that knowledge he’d never say it out loud. His grandmother would roll over in her damn grave if Jake ever dared to point out a woman’s under eye bags or her tired expression. So he went with ‘well’.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but you knew by the hurt look on Jake’s face that it had struck an exposed nerve. He never wanted to separate. “What I meant was, I’m fine, Lulu here sees a runny nose and thinks it’s the end of days, I would have called you if I needed help.”

“Fair, I mean—you can’t be that sick right? With your big trip to Banff planned and all.” Jake shrugged it off like his heart wasn’t breaking inside his chest. This was about to be his first Christmas separated from the women he loved more than life itself. Being in North Island made it easier to run from his problems, but the minute he got on that flight he was back inside his own head, rewinding and rethinking everything he ever did wrong to drive you away.

“Right—“ You agreed softly beside the man you loved so deeply that it burned. “Yeah, I’m just so thankful you were so happy to take the kids with you to your mothers house this year.” To be perfectly honest you were expecting Jake to push back, ask more questions, be a little standoffish on the idea of you not being there for the kids on Christmas. But he never did, and you didn’t know what hurt more.

“They’re my kids as much as they’re yours—kinda think it’s the least I can do considering you’ve had them all year round.” It was the tone you didn’t appreciate, the almost passive aggressive attitude that made you frown as you walked with Jake and your kids back to your car.

“You can see the kids anytime you like.” You tried to keep your head level, but the way Jake had said it made you question his motives. “I’d never stop you, if you wanna have them more often I’m sure we can—“

“Wasn’t that a big part of the reason you wanted to separate?” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. You were about to say perhaps you could come up with a custody agreement. Something on paper that seemed fair to the both of you that took your work schedules into consideration as well as your living conditions, the kids schooling, holidays and extended family. You were happy to discuss it more, but this year that had passed the both of you by had gone in the blink of an eye. “You were stuck with the kids too much? Seems a little counter intuitive considering you’ve become their primary caregiver.”

“Jake—“ You sighed with a longing he’d missed. “Not in front of the kids, alright?” You were trying your best, truly. But here he was in all his glory, the love of your life and father of your children, telling you that you made a mistake just in a different kind of font. “We can talk about it all when we get home.”

“I’m not doing anything in front of the kids—“ Jake shrugged as he watched you unlock the car. “I’m just trying to understand why you can’t just admit why you really left.” Jake knew why you left, because of him. He knew he hadn’t done enough in your marriage to show you how much he loved you. He just wanted to hear you say it. That you didn’t love him anymore. He wanted you to tell him point blank that you had fallen out of love with him.

But you could never say that, because you never stopped loving him.

“You know why—“ You had to bite the inside of your cheek and grit your teeth to stop yourself from yelling, Jake Seresin after all these years still managed to get under your skin with ease. “Again, not in front of the kids, let’s just get home.”

“You seem frustrated.” Jake teased with that award winning grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. You always took the bait.

“Yeah, you’ve been here for five minutes and I’m already over it.” If you had rolled your eyes any harder than you did you would have fallen over.

“Little harsh—“ Jake chuckled as he placed Sammy into his booster seat, the little buckles that used to give him a hard time when the twins were younger were seamlessly clipped up in seconds. Jake made sure his youngest was safe and secure before he stood and turned his full undivided attention back to you. “I’ve missed you.” He said genuinely with a love so strong inside his heart you could nearly feel the warmth as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and drew you in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, even if it’s just for one night before you go jet setting.”

With little hesitation you melted into the man you had married all those years ago with ease. Jake was your home, your guiding light. This past year had been rough without him and you knew deep down it had been rough for him too.

But sometimes love just wasn’t enough to save a marriage.

“Yeah—yeah it’s good to see you.” Jake felt your arms wrap around his torso as you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” Jake’s scent had alway brought comfort to you, the overwhelming warmth of cedarwood and notes of vanilla bourbon always calmed you, grounded you in reality. “I’m uh—“ You wanted to tell him the truth about what was going on, but you just couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t ask that much of him. Not after everything you’d both been through over the last year. “I’m just happy you’re here for the kids.”

“Mum! Lennox won’t let me have the window seat!”

“I’m older than you!” Lennox argued back as Jake groaned into your neck. Oh how he’d missed you, missed the kids, missed his family. North Island was great but without the four of you? Something was always missing. A piece of Jake was always missing.

“I’m not just here for the kids.” Jake pulled away at the sound of Lenny and Lucy arguing in the back seat over who was taking the middle seat. “But they’re a bonus, Honey.” He winked as he switched into dad mode and dropped his voice an octave or two. “Stop arguing, I’ll flip a coin.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Oh woah—“ Jake's eyes lit up as he walked through the front door of the home you’d recently finished moving into. He’d only ever seen it over FaceTime. “It’s bigger than it looked.” The little giggle you let out as you passed him by didn’t go unnoticed. Dirty bird, Jake thought to himself as his eyes lingered down to your ass as you walked ahead of him.

“It’s enough for me and the kids with a spare room.” You replied as Jake continued to look around. Reminisce of cardboard boxes used in your move still remained scattered around the place. “The kids still wanted to put up the Christmas tree even though they aren’t gonna be here.”

“Mama said Santa will know that we’re spending it with Grandma and Grandpa and will take all our presents there.” Lucy caught Jake's attention as she barreled into the living room where the Christmas tree stood tall and proud, decorated with mismatched decorations that you and Jake had collected over the years either from stores or the kids' school crafts. “She also said I could give this to you when you came to stay the night.” Lucy explained as she dropped to her knees and reached under the tree to where a perfectly wrapped gift labelled with Jake's name on it sat. “It’s from mum.”

“Lucy May—“ You nearly hissed as you padded into the living room. “Don’t tell lie’s please.” You pointed, the deal had been you’d get Jake one present and one present only knowing he probably wouldn’t have gotten you anything, and that you’d tell him it was from the kids until he opened it. “You tell your dad who it’s from.” Jake knew by the smirk that crept across his daughter’s face he recognised as his own, that it was from you. Lucy didn’t have to say another word. But she did regardless.

“It’s from me and Lenny.” She replied as Jake sat on the couch he used to sleep on during those nights the two of you couldn’t sleep in the same bed. Those nights where the two of you needed space and those nights where he thought he was doing the right thing by you and giving it to you. He sat on the couch that felt unfamiliar now and took the present his daughter gave him with grace. “Lenny! Dad’s opening our present!”

“What present?” Lennox frowned as he walked into the living room trying to carry two year old Sam. “Oh! Mums present.”

“Lennox!” You groaned aloud in utter defeat.

All Jake could do was laugh to himself as he looked over at you. You were as beautiful as ever, his one and only love. How the fuck did things get so messy where you had to use your children as scapegoats.

“It’s fine, it’s fine—I know it’s from the kids Honey.” Jake winked as you rolled your eyes and headed on into the kitchen where you were getting organised to cook dinner. You were starting to feel awfully tired–the oral chemotherapy was starting to make you feel sicker than you had been before you knew what was going on. A double edged sword really, you keep taking the pills? You get so sick you die. You stop taking the chemotherapy tablets? You get so sick you die. Either way you were dying or you convinced yourself you were.

But Jake could never know that, your kids could never know that, so you went about your routine as normally as you could without making a fuss.

“I might save this for when we get to Grandmas, I wouldn't wanna not have anything to open on Christmas morning Lulu.” Jake smiled as he brought her in for a hug between his legs. “I love you all so much.”

“We love you too dad.” Lucy replied as she hugged Jake back. “Mum loves you too.”

“Oh does she now?” Jake knew that putting all his faith in a six year old probably wasn't the best thing he could do, but right now as he held her in his arms, the little girl the two of you had created–he did. He trusted her to tell the truth you wouldn't, because you wouldn't lie and tell him you didn't love him either. “Guess I'll just have to take your word for it then, won't I?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake Seresin had always been a good dad, you had never questioned him on his ability to go above and beyond for his children. That was something you never had to worry about. As you plated up dinner, the laughter of your three children coming from the living room made you smile to yourself. They were loved so fiercely.

“Alright, let's get ready for dinner, yeah? Mums been cooking up a storm in here.” Jake rounded the corner with Sam hand in hand. “Smells so damn good in here.” You again smiled to yourself as Jake can to stand beside you at the kitchen counter, watching as you scooped some pasta bake onto five plates.

“When's the last time you had a home cooked meal?” It was a simple question but Jake really had to think about it for a moment as he reached over to steal a cucumber slice from the chopped salad.

“Does food from the bar count?” He asked with a half cocked smile, knowing full well that Penny's burgers and fries wouldn’t be considered home cooked in your opinion.

“No–” You grinned as Jake leaned in from behind you, trapping you between him and the counter with both arms encompassing you. “No, when's the last time it was a home cooked meal?” Jake didn't reply right away, he simply inhaled your scent slowly from behind you and took in the comforting scent of elderberry and juniper. He missed that all encompassing feeling, that safe and warming feeling of your presence.

“Uh—probably the last time you cooked for me.” Jake noticed the moment you paused at his words, the revelation that you were having. “And it was probably pasta bake, with salad and pork chops, like what we’re having right now.”

“It’s always your favourite—“ It was clear from the very beginning that both you and Jake were getting caught in the moment. But as his hands slowly make their way from the counter top to hips, you know you were too far gone to press the pause button. “Jacob—“

“I'm a simple man.” Jake cooed as he brought one of his hands up to move your hair from one side of your neck. “Lucy tells me you love me.”

“She’s got a pretty wild imagination that daughter of ours.” You teased as Jake pressed his lips against your neck in a sweet gesture of gratitude for the woman who gave him three beautiful children. “You need to stop—“ You sighed into Jake's warm embrace as he pulled away and let his chin fall to your shoulder. “I don’t know where or what you've been in recently.”

“I think she said her name was Vanessa.” Jake taunted as he held you tightly from behind. He felt you tense in his embrace at the very idea he’d been with someone other than you. But you couldn’t hold it against him, not now, the pair of you were separated. You held no claim on the man you had left in favour of putting yourself first.

But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

“Vanessa a name I should remember?” You asked with a little attitude in your tone Jake caught immediately. He couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea you were a little jealous of his very infrequent conquests. He loved you to the end of the world but this was such a frustrating situation to be in. What was a guy supposed to do? Be celebate in hopes his wife came running back?

“Nope—“ Jake reassured you with another kiss to the neck. “I’m not ready to let you go, I thought maybe I could if I just leaned into the whole thing, whatever it is that we’re doing, but I’m just not ready to let you go.”

“Have you?” Jake had to clear his throat when he asked. “Been with anyone, that is?”

“Do you think between work, raising three kids with your DNA and missing you that I’d have time to get laid?” You knew what Jake would latch onto, the part where you said you missed him. You saw the light in his eye as you turned in his embrace to face him with a mischievous smile plastered across your face.

“You miss me?” Yes. Yes you did. With all your might you missed him everyday and every night. But it didn’t change what the two of you became.

“Don’t try your luck—“ You argued, shrugging Jake's query off like the answer was obvious. To him it was, you did miss him. Other sailors tend to recognise other sailors on the sea and Jake missed you tenfold.

“Oh I’m feeling like the luckiest guy in the whole world right now.” You could feel Jake pressing himself against you, silently but not so subtly telling you exactly what this whole encounter was doing to him.

“Really? Is that so?” You asked like you weren’t aware of the rock hard erection pressing against your pelvis. Jake just pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold off the crimson red from creeping up his neck and cheeks. But he wasn’t backing down from a challenge, especially when you were leaving all the right doors unlocked for him to walk right through.

“So lucky that I couldn’t help but to notice the spare bed hasn’t even been made up?”

“Oh so you assumed I’d be your personal chef and the maid tonight?” You countered as you looked around for your three small children, not wanting to expose them to such x-rated content before you slowly but surely sunk your hand into the sweatpants Jake had recently changed into. Damn those grey sweats and damn Jake for going commando. “You are perfectly capable of making your own bed.”

The way your palm wrapped around his length sent sparks through Jake's body like nothing he’d ever felt before. Your touch was so beautiful and elegant, like you knew exactly what he needed and where he wanted it.

“Or I could just sleep in yours, with you.” Jake nearly begged as your fist slid up and down his hardened length, feeling him twitch under your control. “Honey—“ He nearly moaned as he fell forward into you, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You’re killing me here.”

“What don’t you get about the fact we’re separated?” You asked almost teasingly like you weren’t pumping him slowly as dinner cooled on the counter behind you while your kids played in the living room.

“For as long as you have my last name, you’re my wife, end of story.” Butterflies, that’s how you’d describe the feeling inside you when Jake, your somewhat ex husband, told you you were still his. You never wanted to not be his, but you were sure that Vanessa maybe wondered if she’d ever be his too.

“Oh you are so full of yourself.” You slowly but surely pulled your hand out from Jake’s sweats and watched him nearly deflate at the loss of sensation, but he never missed a beat, Jake was quick like that, he always had been.

“You could be full of me too if you just let your guard down a little.”

“Jake!!” You slapped his chest firmly as your kids all rushed in at the smell of food.

“I’ll take my stuff upstairs shall I?” He grinned ear to ear, knowing by the way your jaw remained on the ground he had you hook, line and sinker.

“Yeah, you can, to the spare room you idiot.” You watched as Jake fixed himself up and headed in the direction of the stairs. You were still so in love with this man.

“Lenny! Where’s your mothers room?” Jake turned to your eldest son who always knew that the two of you were going to make it through whatever this rough patch was. He had friends who had divorced parents, and even at the young age of six, Lennox knew his parents didn’t hate each other.

“Upstairs to the left, it’s the messy one.” You gave your son the stink eye as he beamed up at you.

“Perfect.” Jake chuckled and sent you a wink. “I’ll be right back.” He was getting laid tonight and you both knew it.

“I’m—“ You hardly had the energy to keep your whole hard to get act up, so with a sigh, you let your guard down for the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. “You’re unbelievably.”

“I’ve been told by the youth on base it’s called Rizz now.” Jake yelled back as he jogged up the wooden stairs, you could just barely hear him as his voice faded the higher he climbed. But nevertheless, you still heard him.

“Well I can’t wait to get both you and your ‘rizz’ out of my house!” You shouted back, Lenny just laughed as he watched his Dad pull a funny face at your words from the top of the stairs.

“You don’t mean that.” He smiled up at you. “You and dad love each other.” It made your heart skip a beat, but you had to remember that you were playing a dangerous game here. Letting Jake in now would only break his heart more. You had to do what was best for you, and that was to remain separate. At least while you were fighting for your life.

“Maybe, but he’s still a pain in my ass Lenny.”

***~****~****~***~***~***

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: breast cancer #tw: cancer #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman fic

322 notes · View notes

dawnbreakersgaze · 1 month

Text

Excuse me but the idea of MC and Xav sitting on their respective balconies and texting each other The Tea while people watching in their neighborhood is both so silly and so endearing to me.

So let's go on a small adventure, shall we?

Warnings: None.

Just fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff.

The late morning sun was already warming you through the windows of your tiny apartment before you'd even stepped foot outside. It was finally mid-spring in Linkon, which meant you could enjoy your late breakfast on the patio without having to worry about a stray chill or errant frost dampening your weekly Saturday 'brunch' plans.

Opening the patio door with your granola bar in one hand and phone in the other, you settle into the cushioned bench that overlooked your apartment courtyard and took a deep breath. Sometimes it felt like winter was neverending in Linkon, but you could finally feel the tension of the gripping cold that had settled in your bones start to slowly bleed from you.

After getting comfortable, you finally pulled out your phone, and quickly found your brunch 'date's' contact info, sending him the customary "Get up it's people watching hour" text.

[Hey Xav, you up? I'm already on my balcony?]

It doesn't take long for his reply. This has been your weekly tradition for a few months now. Ever since you had both just so happened to see that kid getting dragged down the street by the monstrous hound, it had become something of a... habit for the two of you to text each other the funny happenings on your street when you were home. Not that either of you were particularly prone to gossip, but the simple domesticity of it was oddly comforting after a long week of getting slogged on by wanderers.

[Yeah I'm up. Give me a sec]

The soft ping of your notification broke the peace, followed shortly by the shuffling of his patio door sliding open from above you. Sure, you could simply call out and greet him, as the acoustics out here are great and the soundproofing is atrocious, but the silence is cozy, and the atmosphere almost feels magical. This is your ritual, after all.

It's a bit like a storybook scene, you think, the two of you sharing a moment in time together yet still separated by some outside force. Maybe it was silly, but the fabricated longing almost made it feel romantic in a way that you're sure your neighbor would find ridiculous.

When you hear his footsteps above you come to a halt, you immediately notice something in particular is missing, however.

[You forgot your coffee Xav. Are you gonna be able to stay awake?]

[How could U tell?]

[I didn't smell any burning 🤭🔥]

He doesn't reply, but you can hear the huff he makes over the railing as his footsteps retreat, fading behind the sliding door once again. You don't even try to hold back the laughter his reaction elicits from you, hopeful the concrete carries it to him easily.

When he finally does reemerge, faint smell of bitter charred beans on the wind, his phone is already buzzing with the morning's newest additions to your people watching portfolios.

An older man you'd long ago dubbed "Green Thumb" who liked to frequent the flower garden outside your apartment complex was already taking photos of the new stargazer lily blossoms that had just opened this morning. So enamored by the vibrant petals, he didn't even seem to notice the couple he'd backed into who'd happened to spill their groceries all over the sidewalk. You heard Xavier call "Watch out!" From above you when he'd recognized the impending impact, but at your distance, it was no use.

[That was nice of you Xav. Too bad it didn't help 🫠]

[I can't believe they didn't see Green Thumb. He was so hard to miss. Even when Ur distracted U still see better]

[HEY! I'm not the one who sleep walks! 💀]

[And yet I'm always there to guard Ur back partner]

He's right of course, though you're not going to tell him. Xavier likes to play the part of a soft and harmless little thing, but it doesn't take much to stoke the hunter into burning hotter than you intended. His evol might be light, but you know better than anyone that light, under careful concentration, can start a blazing fire if you're not mindful. His teasing isn't ever harmful though, so instead you decide to simply poke the bear.

[Only because I'm starting to suspect you like it back there]

The distinct sound of a phone accidentally hitting the concrete marks the end of that thread.

Its not long before another of your regulars, pair of young kids Xavier had called the Trouble Twins arrived on scene. Aptly named for the number of times their poor mother has chastised them for chasing the ducks and picking the flowers, the siblings were quite the rambunctious duo. Today they seem to be a few steps ahead of their vigilant mother, rushing into the park with high-pitched hollers and improvised swords made of small branches they'd found. Today's unfortunate conquest seemed to be the pigeons that were being fed by the local grannies.

[They look like a pair of knights today don't they?]

[Knights? Don't knights usually protect people?]

[Maybe they're protecting us from the pigeons]

[Xavier those old ladies look pretty mad idk. That one even tried to chase the boy and almost caught him!]

The pause in messages was punctuated by his soft laughter above you, carried on the spring breeze. It was so warm, so genuine, so comfortable. You didn't need a mirror to feel the heat bloom in your cheeks; the overwhelming sensation of ardor flooding you at the the very sound.

[You're right. He needs more training. A good Knight should never be caught by an old lady]

[.... I don't think that's the message here Xav]

The rest of your morning goes back and forth like this for another hour. Watching your favorite people pass by, concocting new and interesting stories for them as they pass your balconies. Xavier has very interesting and oddly insightful opinions on those around him, considering you don't really recall seeing him with many friends. None the less, his company and companionship on your balconies has easily become your favorite part of the week. The only noises between you are the laughter that passes back and forth as the texts volley from one to another.

Finally, as the afternoon sun starts to become an uncomfortable heat, your phone chimes once more.

[I'm getting kind of hungry]

[Oh good. You're warning me this time. Thanks!]

[What?]

[No. I was going to ask if U wanted to go to lunch. With me, I mean?]

And just like that, the storybook was snapping shut. No longer a fragment lost in time where two people gazed at the same scene together from two separate places, but a tangible moment you could step into. Something intimate and real.

Perhaps you stayed in this thought a moment too long, or your silence below him made him second guess himself, as the chime of your phone snapped you out of your daze again.

[I didn't mean to impose if U have plans]

[I know it's Ur day off too]

Fumbling with the suddenly slippery device, softly cursing, and praying he didn't hear, you quickly hammer out the only thing that's been playing in your head on repeat-

[Yes absolutely! I'd love to grab some lunch I'm starving]

[Meet me downstairs in 30?]

#look i had 3 hours of sleep and i chose to this idk why #written in a single go like a psychopath #and now im going to bed gnight ♡#lnds #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love & deepspace #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier lnds #xavvy baby #kay writes #this text was just too cute I had too i was over come with emotions #god why is Xavier so adorable ugh #so soft boy sometimes i love himb #also-#not proofread we die like men #sorry im Le~ tired ill edit tomorrow

155 notes · View notes

lorrainmorgan · 3 months

Text

Serpents at the Library

🔞❤️‍🔥 NSFW // MDNI 🔞❤️‍🔥

⚠️ Ominis x F! reader⚠️ Spicy content ahead.

“So, my dear, you think you've been good? Tell me just how much you believe you deserve what I can give you.” Ominis purred.

The Library's second floor was mostly deserted, save for a lone figure sitting in the farthest cubicle. Ominis was patiently waiting for your arrival. You had agreed to meet after your last afternoon class, but you were already running late. Suddenly, Ominis perked up at the sound of your footsteps drawing closer.

"Hello Ominis, I'm sorry I was late, Professor Binns couldn't stop talking and the lesson just kept going and… I’m sorry" you sat down next to him.

He continued to read his book with his flickering wand, trying to ignore your existence as much as possible, but couldn't help but notice how close to him you’d sat down, almost touching his arm with yours.

You quickly noticed his annoyance. Trying to easen the things between you two, you pulled out of your bag a bag of Berttie Botts and placed it next to him "You can have as many as you want" .

"Thank you, but I don't want any." Ominis turned the book page with his wand. He didn't want to engage in conversation.

"What have I done to you? Being late for something that was not my fault gives you no right to be rude to me, and you’ve been weird around me lately…why?" You finally spat at him.

The corner of Ominis's mouth twitched upward again. His head tilted to the side and his unseeing eyes glimmered with frustration, drawing you in closer. As he leaned towards you, his hand took hold of yours, sending shivers down your spine rather than offering comfort as intended.

Finally, his voice broke the silence, low and dangerous as he spoke. His words hung in the air like a warning. "I am not being rude, Y/N."

In response, you reached for a bright blue Berttie Bott bean and slowly brought it up to Ominis' lips. He took it obediently, chewing on it quietly.

"Then tell me, why are you so angry? It's not because I was late... is it?"

After a moment of hesitation, Ominis nervously cleared his throat and shifted on his seat. The signs of a blush spread across his face, coloring his ears and cheeks a deep shade of red. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, every word dripping with anger and frustration.

"I'm angry... frustrated by the fact that I overheard Sebastian wanting to take you on a date," he admitted, his eyes flashing with jealousy. "He was finally going to declare his love for you." Turning away, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration before continuing.

"We've known each other since we were kids. We've grown up together, and you've always been so kind to me," Ominis confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "But the truth is, I care about you…" He paused to catch his breath "I wish I didn't have these feelings for you, I wish I had someone else to love. But I-" Suddenly realizing what he had just revealed, Ominis' eyes widened in shock.

Your jaw dropped as you processed his accidental confession.

As soon as the words had escaped his lips, he regretted them. But it was too late to take them back now. "Ever since our childhood days, my feelings for you have grown deeper," he confessed. "I've always imagined kissing you, holding you in my arms and feeling your warmth against mine. I've yearned for more than just friendship with you, but I couldn't act on those desires because of our close bond with Sebastian.”

An electric surge of adrenaline coursed through your body, igniting a desire to kiss Ominis. But you quickly squashed the impulse, reminding yourself that he is holding back and you are a proper lady who must maintain control… Right?

You knew that Ominis was waiting for a sign from you, a green light to act on his own desires. You inched closer to him, until your lips were mere inches apart. As you gazed at the constellation of moles on his cheek, your thoughts raced with the overwhelming urge to press your lips against each one.

Like a magnet to a metal, you rapidly and boldly grabbed Ominis' face in your hands and pulled him towards you. He didn’t resist, he surrendered willingly, eagerly meeting your lips as you both gave into the intense craving that had consumed you both.

The taste of your sweetness burned his tongue . He didn't hesitate any longer, and wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He kissed you deeply, passionately, and with a hunger that had been building inside him for years.

As your tongues intertwined, he felt the heat between you grow stronger. The kiss was intense, and filled with desire and longing. When he broke away from it, he put your bags and other textbooks on the side of the cubicle, blocking the view from possible and unwanted prying eyes.

A grin spread across his lips as he leaned in to kiss you. The kisses grew more intense and demanding, with a roughness that made you almost dizzy.

He held you tight against him, the heat of his body enveloping yours.

Without breaking the kiss, you rose from your seat and straddled Ominis' lap, your legs embracing him. The chair creaked under the weight of two students entwined with each other. It was scandalous, doing this in the middle of the day, in the quiet library where anyone could walk in at any moment. But the danger only heightened the thrill for both of you.

The primal urge to claim you, to mark your body as his own, overtook Ominis. With a slow movement, he slid his hand down under your gray skirt and firmly cupped your ass. A low growl escaped him as he lifted you slightly and placed you on the wooden cubicle desk table in front of him.

Your bodies rubbed together, and pressed against each other while he bit down on your lower lip, gently sucking on it as his hips ground against yours. His erection grew harder with each movement, the intensity almost too much for him to handle.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he left a trail of small pink bruises with each kiss.

Ominis took your right hand, guiding it to the center of his pants where the bulge of his arousal strained against the fabric. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered for you to feel him, to feel his size and understand the depth of his desire for you. The heat between your bodies intensified as you explored his length, sending sparks of pleasure through both of you.

“You see what you do to me?” Ominis growled, his now dark blue blind eyes smoldering with desire. "I can barely focus on anything else. I've even skipped classes just to relieve myself because of you."

His hand trailed down your body, finding its way to your nipples which were already stiff and pressing against the fabric of your clothes. A low moan escaped from your lips as he teased and squeezed them between his fingers. Every nerve end tingled with need in your body.

Ominis could feel himself growing harder and harder beneath your touch, the ache in his loins becoming almost unbearable and painful. He couldn't wait any longer. He wanted you right there, in the library, in that small wooden cubicle, in the middle of the day. Nothing else mattered except for fulfilling his desires with you.

With a sense of urgency, you swiftly unzipped his elegant pants and undid the button. Your fingers eagerly searched within his trousers, freeing his hard member from its confines. It stood tall and proud before you, like a monument to desire.

His skin was as smooth as polished marble, flawless and pale, devoid of any hair. In one hand, he held a flickering wand, ready to warn of any intruders, while the other guided your hand up and down his length.

As the rhythm between you grew steady, he reached for the buttons of your shirt. You quickly assisted in removing it, unable to wait any longer. Omnis could feel your desire for him, and he couldn't resist you either. As he pulled off your shirt, followed by your laced bra, he traced his fingertips over the delicate fabric. The texture felt exquisite to his touch.

"Do you always wear such delicate lace bras, Y/N?" Ominis teased as his hands traced over the curves of your perfect breasts, causing them to rise and fall with each agitated breath.

He pressed soft kisses as he unclipped the last piece of clothing covering your upper body. Ominis took his time, lavishing attention on both breasts equally, determined to give them the love and pleasure they deserved. His lips latched onto your hard pink nipples, suckling and nipping at them until he heard your soft moans echoing in his ears.

"Not so loud, my dear. Your neediness is showing itself all of a sudden," Ominis said in a teasing tone.

Your inner thighs pressed against his cock, creating delicious friction that made you moan even louder. Ominis' hand covered your mouth, muffling the sound as he continued to drive you wild with desire.

“Ominis I’ve been good… please” Your words were desperate and incoherent, barely making sense as they spilled out of your mouth.

Ominis joined in your game as soon as you gave him that green light. He pulled your skirt all the way up, exposing your beautiful skin to him.

“So, my dear, you think you've been good? Tell me just how much you believe you deserve what I can give you.” Ominis purred.

Ominis' hands, rough yet gentle, explored the soft skin of your inner thighs with a sense of urgency. His unseeing eyes were locked onto your lips, and you couldn't help but grab him by his necktie and bite his lip in punishment for making you suffer.

"I need you" you pleaded with desperation in your voice. "Please... I deserve it. I'm sorry I was late..." You knew you sounded pathetic, but at this moment, you didn't care. And Ominis loved it - every moan, every plea, every incoherent sentence that fell from your lips.

His hand traveled lower and reached your white, soaked cotton panties. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, and he wanted nothing more than to claim it for himself.

He gently pulled the bottom of your panties aside, exposing the delicate folds of your womanhood. The pale pink flesh glistened with your arousal, beckoning him closer. With his index finger, he traced the outline of your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips. Then, with a wicked grin, he lowered his head and tasted the sweet nectar that flowed from your entrance, putting one of your legs on his shoulder.

"You taste divine," he purred against your sensitive skin. "But I have a feeling you already know that."

You couldn't deny it as he continued to explore and tease you with his tongue. And when he finally pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting more, he spoke again while circling your sweet spot.

"I've heard you at night, darling. In your dorm room, alone with your thoughts and desires. I used to think you were pleasuring yourself while thinking of Sebastian, but now I wonder...who were you really thinking of?"

Your heart raced at his words, and before you could answer, he pressed his hard length against your slick entrance. You couldn't help but twitch in anticipation.

“Well, darling?. Who were you thinking of?” He wanted to hear his name falling from your lips, to know that you desired him as much as he desired you.

Your dizzy head could only manage to cry a single word.

“ You.”

Ominis pushed himself inside you, and he felt your walls clamp down around him at his abrupt move. He gently slid in and out, and he heard the moans leaving your chest. He couldn't believe how good you felt, and he couldn't wait to make you scream his name. He kissed you deeply, and he started to move faster. He could feel his balls slapping against your thighs.

Ominis picked up his pace, and he felt your hips moving against him. He could feel the wetness on his cock, and he felt it slide in and out of your body. He kissed you deeply, and he felt your hands grasping onto his back.

You almost felt guilty for how good Ominis' cock felt inside of you. How he moved, how his fingers traced every inch of your back, of your breasts, of your sex.

"O-Ominis, Om-" You cried in his ear, almost reaching your climax. His handjob and the rhythm he had was the perfect equation you need to reach your orgasm.

His movements became more urgent, his body pulsing with pleasure as he neared climax.

Ominis could feel his balls tighten, the sensation intensifying with each thrust. A low growl escaped his lips as he released himself inside of you. He felt his hot liquid pouring out of him. With a satisfied low moan, he pulled out of you, feeling his slick cock drip onto the floor. He knew there would be a mess to clean up later, but at that moment, he didn't care.

Despite everything they had just done, he was still hard and eager for more. Ignoring your need to catch your breath, he plunged back inside of you, causing you to gasp loudly and draw attention from the nearby librarian.

The librarian's voice cut through the hazy fog of pleasure, jolting you out of your intense concentration. But not Ominis’.

“Dears? Is everything okay up there?” Her concerned tone was met with a sharp demand from Ominis.

“Tell her we’re fine.” he commanded, his thrusts not faltering for a second.

You struggled to compose yourself and spoke in a strained whisper, “W-We’re fine Ma’am, thank you.”

“Do you need assistance with anything dear? I can’t hear you very well.” The librarian's footsteps could be heard coming closer to where you were entwined with Ominis.

“Tell her we need bigger tables so I can fuck you in different posit-”

“We’re good ma’am, Thank you!” You finally managed to say loud and clear.

“Shhh. Please do not scream,” she scolded gently. “Very well then, I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” With that, her footsteps receded and the two of you were left alone once again

Without warning, Ominis' hand shot out and wrapped around your neck, his fingers exerting just enough pressure to display his dominance. But despite his forceful hold, he was careful not to cause any harm.

"Have you had enough of me, darling?" He growled in a deep, commanding voice.

"No…" You breathed out, your fingertips tracing the outline of his lips as you balanced his aggression with gentle and loving touches.

Suddenly, he released you and spun you around, lifting one of your legs up onto the desk table. With ease, he slipped back inside of you and your body immediately responded with an arch of pleasure.

His lips trailed down your back as his grip tightened on your hips, guiding the pace of his cock entering and exiting your body. Every thrust sent waves of ecstasy through you, leaving you in a state of pure bliss under his cold hands.

Your body trembled as his strong hand pulled your hair, forcing you to stand up straight and press against his hard chest. He grasped your neck with his other hand, exerting a gentle pressure as he massaged your swollen breast with cold fingers.

You were completely at his mercy, just as you always had been.

As the rhythm of his thrusts intensified, the sound of his balls slapping against your backside echoed through the empty cubicles. His pale hand found its way down to your throbbing clit, where he teased and rubbed it in tight circles. Each time he penetrated you deeper, it felt like he was claiming a piece of you. His powerful grip on your throat only added to the intensity, accompanied by his hoarse moans that filled your ear with your name over and over again.

All of these sensations combined into one overwhelming wave, bringing you both to another explosive orgasm. It was everything you needed in that moment, and you couldn't help but surrender completely to him.

Ominis slowly withdrew from your body, leaving a trail of warmth and satisfaction in his wake. His body pulsed with pleasure as he released his warmth onto your back. Your skin tingled with the lingering sensation of his touch.

As you both caught your breath, Ominis reached for his handkerchief to clean up any traces of your intimacy. With gentle care, he helped you dress and made sure you were comfortable, continually asking if you were okay.

Once you were fully clothed, he led you over to the desk again, sat you down, resting his head in your lap as he gazed up at you with adoration.

“May I have some Bertie Botts now, please darling?”

#ominis smut #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy x reader #ominis x mc #absolute filth #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt #slytherin

192 notes · View notes

just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

Text

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11

Prompt: Royalty AU

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir."

"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit."

Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair.

"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-"

Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?"

"What, now you care?"

He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs.

"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?"

The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.

Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like-

"Watch out!"

Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him.

Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph.

"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-"

"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time."

Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way.

For a second, nobody says anything.

"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful."

"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!"

His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans.

"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …"

He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide.

"I, erm … Dustin."

"I'll stay here with Dustin."

Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick.

Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.

"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids."

Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light.

"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though."

Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee.

"You mean the royal visit?"

Eddie huffs.

"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."

Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-"

Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-"

"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon."

They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly.

Dustin sighs and stands.

"Coming, Hop."

"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-"

And then it clicks.

"Oh fuck," Eddie says.

Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise."

The door clicks shut.

The car glides away.

Eddie buries his face in his palms.

"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."

Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.

"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit."

Eddie groans.

Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie ficlet #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

296 notes · View notes

galaxysgal · 5 months

Note

hi! i'd like to ask prompt 🍽 ─ prepare the christmas dinner together with single dad!carmy x younger reader (maybe in her mid 20s idk)

thank you <33 i love your writing

michellin star on the tree || carmen berzatto

pairing: single dad carmy x younger reader

warnings: literally none. not even a swear.

a/n: this is so so cute and i love carmy sm oh my god. implying that the reader is in grad school so like early/mid twenties.

heavy snowfall and harsh winds have shrouded the city of chicago in a gentle silence. you collect the extra plates that had been for sydney, natalie, richie and the rest and with one strong arm around bella, you lift the plates back into their place in the china cabinet.

the smells from the kitchen are delightful. ham, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes with gravy, all of it is so enticing. carmen's been in the kitchen all afternoon, cooking up a storm while you and bella had played in the snow until it got too thick and too cold for you both.

now you're safe and sound inside. after you'd changed bella into dry clothes and while you showered, the snow had continued to fall harder and harder. by the time you were done, skin dewy and hair pleated into neat braids, there was a severe weather advisory in place. just like that, your turn to host christmas dinner was effectively canceled.

bella had cried at first, of course, because what's christmas to a four-year-old without family and gifts? but you'd managed to calm her down with a cup of warm cocoa and a call to sydney, who promised to come by and play as soon as the weather allowed her.

bella says your name softly, tugging at your sleeve as you search the kitchen for flashlights and batteries. "whats up kiddo?" you ask.

"'m hungry," she whines, and you chuckle in response.

you're about to tell her the food's almost done, until carmy's taking his daughter right from your arms. "you're always hungry," he says, sitting her on the counter and tickling her tummy.

"daddy!" bella shreiks, kicking her little feet in self defense. "that tickles!"

"gotta tickle all the hungry outta ya, kid," carmy tells her.

you stand there looking on at the two of them. carmen, and his little angel. he's such a good dad to bella. it warms your heart to see him like this, all giggly and warm, loving in the most pure sense of the word.

when the giggles have subsided and bella's wiggled off the counter, carmy pulls you to his side. you rest your head against his, leaning on him and looking over the assortment of food he's prepared.

"i'm sorry you did all this for nothing," you tell him.

and of course he just shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "not f'nothing, baby, for you. you work so hard at school, thought the least i could do for my little phd candidate was cook this big ol' christmas dinner."

"for me?" you ask softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

"all f'you, sweetheart. you an' bella, my girls." he hugs you tighter, pulling you so that your chest is against his own. "you're so good to us both. this is my way of sayin' thank you."

end.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fluff #mags writes #mags' winter sleepover #mags' winter sleepover: fics #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear #fx the bear

309 notes · View notes

smokerswifey · 29 days

Text

Guys I had a dream last night where adult Nasiens and Percival leave Brittania after the war against Arthur to settle in a little territory/land like God's Finger .

They get married and have a little girl with dark green hair, the prettiest golden/brown eyes you've ever seen and a smile so bright she could light up the entire room .

She's the absolute love of their life . Percival is ( obviously) a girl dad and let's her messily braid his long hair or paint his face atrociously with makeup . Despite the sparkly mess on his face he'll always gasp in delight when she proudly holds up her rhinestone orned mirror to his face and hug her tightly saying " Thanks kiddo I look beautiful 😊😊 "

He's very obviously lying but the toothy grin abd the hug that he gets from his little girl is worth it .

She's basically a mini Percy but with darker hair and brown eyes .

And Nasiens gosh Nasiens loves their little girl ( I'm using they cause I don't know if in the future he's going to remain a he or a she, so I'm keeping the pronouns neutral for know ) who runs on her wee little legs to hug his knees tightly and say the most adorable things ever like " You're so prettyy Mama/Papa" or " I love you so so much more than the whooooole world " .

And Nasiens eats it allll up, plucking the little girl from the floor to tuck her into their arms and to kiss her fluffy hair adoringly .

She's a very energetic little bean, running and bouncing around at every second . A very curious and sharp kid tooo always asking questions. Like... always 💀.

She's also very good at hand to hand combat, her and Percy roughouse all the time much to Nasiens dismay .

( " PERCY YOU DID NOT JUST DROPKICK OUR DAUGHTER-"

" BUT HONEY SHE ASKED ME TOO TEACH HER !" )

For her magic tho I haven't really figured put what it is and I would really appreciate some ideas :))

As for her race she technically has human/life spirit ??/ giant and fairy blood running through her veins so there are a lot of options for her magic lmao .

Zeldris and Gelda are crazy about her .

Zel actually burst into tears when they announced that they were expecting.

He burst into tears when he heard that she was born .

And he burst into tears when he saw her for the first time .

( he was very embarrassed and forbids everyone from speaking about it but Meliodas heard and calls him crybaby now 💀 )

Anywas he's always asking Persiens to babysit her, like all the fucking time .

P : Dad its been three times in a row, we can find another sitter if ya want ?

Z : Nonsense son * plucks the baby out of Percy's arms and pulls her gently into his * You and Nasiens need some alone time hmm ?

N : Alone time can wait, Zeldris-San we really don't want to bother you-

Z : Bother me ??? * dramatically puts a hand over the baby's ears as is he wanted to shield her from what Nasiens said even tho she can't understand *Bothering me with this angel ?

* gazes into her big eyes adoringly.*

Never .

*looks to the couple*

To be honest I'm doing this more for myself than for you guys lmao, I just want to spend time with my beautiful grandaughter, isn't that right my little monster?

B : *coos happily *

Z : * strokes her cheek softly * You two can go now have fun *he says dismissively and turns around * You want grandpa to read you a story about how he killed a thousand godesses in one day ??

P : Please don't Dad .

Z : *pretends he can't hear* oh son you're too far, love you, have fun, byeee.

He would be the silliest grandpa .

And Gelda, Diane and King would have an amazing relationship with her naturally .

My imaginative juice has ran out for today but please expect ro hear more about Persiens daughter 🥰🥰.

AND COULD Y'ALL PLEASE HELP ME FIND A NAME FOR THIS FRICKIN KID I HAVE NO IDEA 😭😭

#nanatsu no taizai #mokushiroku no yonkishi #4koa #seven deadly sins #percival #lancelot #tristan liones #gawain #nasiens 4koa #nasiens #persiens #percival x nasiens #oc #oc ideas

56 notes · View notes

roxygen22 · 2 months

Text

Babysitter

For those of you looking forward to Lofty's appearance in the My Little Cocoa Bean series, your wait is over!

Summary: Willy needs a babysitter ASAP. Lofty steps in begrudgingly. Ben/Bean is 5, and Charlotte/Charlie is about a year old (and crawling).

C/W: Derogatory remark toward children. Babysitter loses track of child. Minor injury.

<><><><><>

It took time for Lofty to grow accustomed to Ben's regular presence at the factory. He found the squirming tiny human tolerable when confined to that silly wrap on Willy's chest. Cute, even. But the fondness waned when the boy became mobile and was fully exhausted once he started to talk. Ben made a habit of following Lofty around, asking the most inane questions. "What are you doing?" "Why are you orange?" "Can I have green hair, too?" He was oblivious to Lofty's exasperation.

On the rare occasion when there were long spells between Ben's visits, though, Lofty would ask after him. "When can we expect the little troll again? I'm not used to actually being able to get my work done without tripping over him." Willy would just laugh and shake his head. He could see right through that callous exterior.

Today was the first day that Willy took both Ben *and* Charlotte with him to the factory. Lofty scoffed when he saw the family enter. "Two of them. Fantastic," he said flatly. He gave Ben the usual side eye, though Willy saw the small smile that lit up Lofty's face when he thought nobody was looking.

Willy had just gotten the children settled in the office when he spied an entry on his desk calendar. "Oh no, no no no! That can't be today!"

"What's wrong, Papa?"

"I have a very important meeting at 9 this morning that I thought was scheduled for tomorrow." He paled and scrubbed a hand down his face. You were at work today as well, and Willy knew how much it meant to you to start back again after Charlotte's birth. There was no way he was going to pull you away because he mismanaged his schedule. Noodle was at school, and there was not enough time for your parents to cross town to watch the kids. "Oh boy. I'll just have to ask Lofty."

Willy pulled out his fife to summon the little orange man. "Lofty, I need to ask a favor. Can you keep an eye on Bean and Charlie, keep them out of trouble just long enough for me to meet with the chameleon flower importer?" Willy implored.

"And why would I want to do that?" Lofty asked incredulously.

"Please, Lofty. If the deal works out, we'll have the ingredients again for those color-changing candies you like so much."

Lofty placed his hand on his chin in thought. "I suppose I can look after your crotch goblins. JUST for a limited period of time. JUST this once!"

Ignoring the jab at his babies for the time being, Willy gratefully shook Lofty's hand. "You're a lifesaver. Here's Charlie's nap and feeding schedule and her bottles. Here are Bean's snacks. I need to go brush off my coat and hat. This shouldn't take more than an hour, tops." Willy left the office in a whirl. "And Bean, stay away from the edge of the chocolate river!" he called out from the other end of the hallway.

Ben and Lofty just sat and stared at each other, not knowing what to do next. Charlotte seemed sufficiently entertained by chewing on her hands and babbling.

"Well, you two are more boring than guarding cocoa beans," Lofty lamented after a few moments had passed. "I need to go count bags of sugar. I will be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Take this whistle and blow on it if you need my attention. Keep an eye on your- hold on a moment, where is the newer one?"

Both he and Ben spun around to look, but Charlotte was nowhere to be seen. Unbeknownst to Lofty, the little girl was already quite proficient at crawling - something that Willy had failed to mention.

"Charlie? Charlieeeeeee!" Ben called out.

"Ba ba ba ba." They heard her babble in the distance in response to Ben's voice. Their heads swiveled until they caught sight of her crawling over the candy bridge. The bridge over the chocolate river. The bridge that does not have any rails to prevent someone from fa-

"Oh, good heavens. Charlotte, stop right this instant!" Lofty yelled. Thankfully, the girl paused. "How did she get all the way over there so quickly? How did she even get out of the office?"

Ben ran toward her, but Charlotte giggled and resumed crawling away at a faster pace, making a game of it. Lofty ran after both of them, but Ben's longer legs (even at 5 years old) prevailed. Ben would have caught up to the baby, too, had he not tripped over a group of candy toadstools at the base of the bridge. The poor boy fell forward and scraped his hands. Fat tears rolled down his face from the stinging pain and from losing sight of his sister again.

Lofty quickly looked Ben over once he finally caught up. "Buck up, you'll be alright. Get back on the proverbial horse. We need to find Charlotte. We know she went that way," he pointed across the river. "Let's split up. If you find her, blow the whistle."

Lofty pulled the boy back up off the ground. Together, they crossed the bridge. Ben went left and Lofty went right, each calling for the girl in hopes she would giggle or babble again. After what felt like hours of searching and chasing phantom sounds across the garden, they crossed paths under the chocolate cherry tree.

"I can't find Charlie!" Ben sobbed. The stoic Oompa Loompa was also nearly reduced to tears by that point as well. Willy would surely cast him out, just like he was exiled from Loompaland. Or worse.

A soft noise pulled Lofty from his downward spiral. It sounded like the tree was...snoring? He circled the trunk to find the source. "What on Earth? Benjamin, come look!" he whisper-yelled to the boy. Ben knelt down and spotted his baby sister cuddled up in a hollow at the base of the tree...asleep. Neither of them were big enough to pick her up and carry her back to the office, so they let her be.

"Stay here," Lofty instructed. "I will go find something to clean up the scrapes on your hands. If she wakes, you give her a great big bear hug and don't let go until I get back."

Lofty went to the storeroom to grab some rags and water. When he returned, Ben was asleep, curled up protectively in front of the den Charlotte had made for herself. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. The poor rascal had exhausted himself worrying over his sister. He didn't dare wake them for fear of playing another round of hide and seek. Instead, he sat down and leaned back against the trunk of the tree to-

Next thing Lofty knew, he felt a tap on his boot. He blinked the sleep away and spotted Willy's tall, lanky frame. Apparently, he had dozed off, too, and in his sleep had leaned over so that his head was resting on Ben's shoulder.

Lofty jolted up and looked to make sure both children were accounted for. Willy snickered. "Don't worry, Lofty. Your curmudgeonly reputation is safe with me. I won't tell anyone you were cuddling with my kids as if you actually like them." He winked.

"Cuddling! I...These menaces?" Lofty stammered. "Really, Mr. Wonka. I sincerely hope you don't plan on bringing more of these small humans to the factory. Now, can I expect to have more of those delightful color-changing candies again soon?"

<><><><><>

A/N: Ben will tell all once he wakes. Charlotte is going to be a handful!

<><><><><>

Masterlist

109 notes · View notes

zlebooks · 2 years

Text

𓂃 xiao + stupid in love .

part two of sorts to this drabble !! this can be read alone, i only wrote this bc some wanted to see y/n and xiao getting together 🫶🫶🫶

xiao knew he was smart.

he maintains his grades in the top percentile of his class. and even though he rarely participates in recitations, he makes up for it with his excellent written outputs.

he's knowledgeable— he can recite the whole process of mitosis and meiosis on the top of his head. his analytic essays on poems and short stories are always returned with a 'great job!' written on red.

xiao knows a lot of things, but this doesn't mean he's aware of everything.

xiao at 13, did not know kazuha beat up some kids on his behalf. the mean kids had been talking bad about xiao behind his back, and the blond happened to be walking by and couldn't resist connecting his fist to their jaws.

the day after those events, when xiao quizzed the other for his bruised eye, kazuha only shrugs as he says he got it from falling down the stairs.

("your house doesn't have stairs."

"i wasn't in my house, silly. i fell down at your house after doing it with your mom."

"get the fuck away.")

xiao at 14 had no clue that zhongli, his upperclassman whom he looks up to the most, sees him as his little brother.

during lunch, zhongli would always drop by at his favorite underclassman's classroom to give him a fruit— it's always high in vitamin c but xiao always receives a different one each day.

the taller noticed how frequent xiao attends their club meetings with either a cold or a cough. being a concerned senior he is, he starts purchasing fruits potent in vitamin c on the way to school to give it to the younger during lunch breaks.

("your face is so sour that even zhongli decided to give you a lemon." a certain blond friend says.

"it. isn't. sour. at. all." xiao says in between bites as he tries to remain poker faced the entire time.

"you're a monster.")

xiao at 15 had no idea who's been feeding the stray cat other than him.

contrary to popular opinion, cats aren't afraid of the green-haired boy. he actually seemed to be a magnet for them— threatening his 'i'm intimidating, back off' persona every once in a while as a bunch of cats follow him.

he met a certain black cat on the streets one day, and every other day, he comes to its spot just to feed it.

however, on a particular afternoon, when he arrives at the riverside to give the black cat some food, he notices an opened canned tuna laying around, and a cat heavily invested in gobbling it up.

he shrugs, before laying down water beside it so the black cat can also get its share of drink.

it doesn't matter who's feeding the friend he had made— as long as the little stray gets fed, he's absolutely fine with it.

(a particular senior who is allergic to beans coos when he learns that xiao has been feeding the cat alongside him.)

xiao at 16, has no clue why he has a bad case of indigestion.

he makes sure he never over eats, or eats too fast. and even with his mother's homemade tonic, his stomach keeps on juggling uncomfortably.

for a while, he thought that the problem might be from the pork buns he buys on the way to school, but when he notices it only appears whenever you're around, he thinks it's because he doesn't like you.

his alleged dislike turns into something stronger– hate, perhaps. the funny feeling in his stomach seems to never go away, and now he feels hotter than ever, his temperature heating up as his thoughts are always plagued by you.

this becomes a problem eventually— a huge one that he had to ask around what he can do in order to keep such an ill feeling on the down low. after all, while he might not like you, he still doesn't want to hurt your feelings, oddly enough. the problem starts to become even bigger, especially now that you two are seatmates. ever since the release of the new seat assignments, which inevitably puts you beside him, the symptoms start to worsen for xiao.

("is it necessary to feel this way when you hate someone?"

"what do you mean exactly?" a kind senior asks, his golden eyes shining brightly in contrast with their uniform's black vest.

"i can barely focus when they're around— i'm always at loss for words whenever we talk." xiao replies, muttering low as he puts his head on top of his fist.

zhongli widens his eyes in shock, but then he reverts to his usual self before the younger catches on. "perhaps you need to reevaluate your feelings; there is a possibility that you mistook such feelings for hate."

the younger shakes his head firmly, "that can't be. i'm pretty sure it's hate."

"are you sure of that, xiao? hate is a strong word." he asks in his rich deep voice and xiao affirms.

zhongli silently hums as he takes a sip from his water bottle. no matter the outcome, this can be a learning experience from his underclassman. xiao is indeed smart— he's sure that the younger would figure it out on his own.)

(when zhongli recounts the events to a close friend of his, he earns a smack on the back of his head.

"why did you leave things at that, idiot!" a thin frail white-haired woman yells, but her appearance is an illusion as the weight of her hand feels like a ton of bricks being slammed against his head.)

xiao at 17, didn't know better than to approach his best friend of four years for advice.

"how do you know if you like someone?" he remembers asking and the relentless teasing that followed.

maybe he should have known better, really. xiao ponders as kazuha lists off the signs of catching feelings for someone.

"don't forget about the butterflies in the stomach! it's what makes you shy."

xiao tsks, as if— he never gets shy.

although the moment you went close— too close— to him, he feels like he could have erupted like a volcano.

(kazuha hollers, "how'd you turn so red when y/n came up to you?" the blond wipes tears from his eyes. "you literally have it bad for them!"

"if you don't stop, i'm not the only one who's going to be red." xiao threatens, holding the plastic knife a little too tight.)

6 months later, xiao didn't know what to do when you suddenly confessed your feelings to him.

he feels as if his feet attached itself to the ground; he could barely move, he can't even bring himself to breathe.

"i like you."

you tell him out of nowhere while the two of you were left behind in the classroom to clean— he was sweeping the floor while you arranged the chairs. from the other side of the room, you suddenly get the urge to confess which left the other gaping. this alone becomes a huge achievement because xiao never gapes.

xiao thinks you should be charged with attempted murder.

he thinks with the way you took away his breath and almost sent him into a cardiac arrest, you should be sent to jail. but then he disagrees with that thought— because how will he deal with his feelings without you?

for the first time in his entire life, xiao thinks he finally understands what kazuha meant by 'butterflies in the stomach.' because as he stares at your expectant eyes and upturned lips, he thinks he just felt a flap against the walls of his tummy.

and what his friend said to him came into fruition— he realizes what they meant.

he likes you back.

xiao was never one for theatrics and yet he can't help but drop the broom he's holding dramatically before running over to you.

coughing awkwardly and taking deep breaths he says, "i do too."

xiao thinks he knows everything now.

("really? 'i do too'? you do know you sounded like you're saying you liked yourself too, right?" a kaedehara descent teases, earning a tug on his hair.

"shut. up.")

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

2K notes · View notes

holy-puckslibrary · 5 months

Text

━ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐟

˗ˏˋ𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 —grumpy!erik johnson x sunshine!nanny!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.1k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. results are... questionable.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i'm unhealthily attached to this made-up family send help

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

JOSIE JOHNSON is thoroughly unimpressed by her Elf.

“Snow angels? In sprinkles? Groundbreaking.”

Dissatisfaction narrows her gray-blue eyes as she stands in front of the kitchen island.

Bernard, the Johnson family’s special scout from the North Pole, is lying limp against the marble countertop in a pool of red and green. The sugary spillage is low-effort at best, especially compared to his iPad drive-in movie yesterday and the miniature golf course the day before that.

Dumping a container of cheap sprinkles—and not even the expensive variety with confetti shapes and edible glitter—wasn’t going to cut it.

Someone was going to have to do better.

“Uh-oh! Looks like Bernard had a wild night,” Erik Johnson, her father, announces as he pads in from the dining room.

If he thinks he’s being subtle, he’s doing a terrible job. His daughter can see straight through him; his voice goes all sorts of wonky when he has a secret.

And his dye-stained fingertips aren’t doing him any favors, either.

“Wild for who? A first grader?”

Josie was in second grade now. She is far too smart to fall for his poor acting and, evidently, much too cool to bother with humoring him.

Erik cocks his head to the side. His kid could be snarky, but she typically postponed doling out remarks until the afternoon. Or until he’s had his second helping of caffeine.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, he thinks to himself.

Aloud, though, he opts for a simple joke. “Well, I think it was wild. Do I look like a first grader to you?”

He sets his coffee mug beside the espresso machine and puffs out his chest like a peacock. Erik’s already 6’4 without trying, so when he raises both hands and lefts onto his tip-toes for emphasis, his head nearly brushes the ceiling. He’s grinning, wide and bright.

He expects his daughter to giggle at his antics like she did when she was younger or, at the very least, crack a reluctant smile out of second-hand embarrassment.

She does neither.

Rather than pearly teeth, Erik’s met with the whites of her eyes. If Josie had rolled them any harder, they'd have gotten stuck facing the wrong way. That’s what her older brother, Reese, told her whenever she did it.

The irony of the repeated red-lettered phrase "Be Nice!" on the white background of her Grinch-themed pajamas isn’t lost on him.

“Josephine Johnson, I thought I made myself clear the last time we talked about this; you do not roll your eyes at me. Or anyone, for that matter. It’s very rude,” he reprimands sternly. “What’s gotten into you?”

Josie crosses her arms, unphased, and fixes him with an unwavering glare. She could do this all day if need be.

“What’d she do this time?” Reese asks through a yawn as he strolls into the kitchen.

You, the family’s live-in nanny, are not far behind. You’re rubbing the sleep from the corners of your tired eyes when Josie darts to your side.

She looks up at you expectantly, eyes wide and pleading. Silently, they beg for you to agree to whatever she’s planning to say next.

“Can you be in charge of it again? Please, please, please?” she asks, so sweetly she might give herself a cavity.

Josie tugs on your arm to drive home her adolescent anguish when you aren’t instantly compliant.

Panic fizzles in your chest. There was no way she knew, right?

She couldn’t. No way. You were still a few years off from the dicey reveal. No one in her grade had spilled the beans yet, and the adults in her life were content to keep up the ruse.

Surely, she meant as the Elf’s supervisor or an assistant.

Wrong.

“Bernard looks so much cooler whenever Dad lets you set up his pranks instead of doing it himself. See? Look how lazy he was this time,” Josie explains while tugging you over to the scene of the crime. “All he did was spill my sprinkles all over the counter and set my Elf on top of the mess. Like, could it get any lamer than that? He’s probably all sticky now, and he’ll have to stay that way because he’d drown in the washing machine!”

“No, I didn’t,” Erik says a little too quickly, tone noticeably defensive. “Bernard—who is perfectly fine and not sticky at all, for the record—must’ve been way too tired when he got back from visiting Santa last night to do anything else. He didn’t even bother making it hard for you to find him this morning. I’d do something “lame” too if I spent the entire night flying home from far, far away.”

Bernard wasn't the only member of their household who spent the night up in the inky sky; Erik had been in an entirely different country only four hours ago. And, instead of going straight to bed like his body urged him, he spent an hour arranging the stupid little Elf into what he thought was a fun scenario for his daughter to find the following morning.

Now, he wishes he had just left Bernard on the mantle.

He blames you. They wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t introduced her to the concept. Fuck your quirky childhood tradition. All it'd caused were problems.

“I’m not a baby anymore. I know Bernard isn’t actually one of Santa’s elves!” Josie shouts, growing angry.

Reese mumbles something to the effect of “Could’ve fooled me…” under his breath, and Josie’s face pinches with frustration.

Like the miniature teenager she’s rapidly morphing into, the youngest Johnson massages the fold between her eyebrows. Then, her outburst matures into an accusation. “I know you’ve been hiding him this whole time.”

Erik balks at the allegation.

Irritated, she continues, “I’ve been sneaking down to watch you do it since I was, like, five years old. It's not my fault you aren't very observant. Or that your footsteps sound like an elephant’s. But I don’t care about that. I don't care that I know, but I do care how much effort you put into it.”

Josie clutches your hand in hers and smiles. She could get away with murder with the deep dimples indented on either side of her mouth —and she knows it, too.

She also knows flattery can get her wherever she wants. “Which is why I want you to take over again. You did such a good job while he was away. The goldfish in the paper pond was super cute, and you even made sure he was watching my favorite movie at the drive-in!"

“Fine, you know what? You’re right,” Erik confesses, conceding to his eight-year-old with a toss of his hands. “And if it really matters that much, I’ll never touch the Elf again. Okay? I give up full control and responsibility.”

Josie positively beams. She always got her way eventually.

“So, how did you even figure it out, anyway?” Reese asks.

The question is garbled; he couldn’t wait until his mouth wasn’t full of Lucky Charms to make his inquiry.

“How could I not?” Josie retorts. Her facial expression is equal parts annoyance and ridicule. Reese’s eyes loop. His little sister clarifies with a huff, “Obviously, he isn’t a real elf, Reese. Santa needs all the help he can get to make sure everyone on the Nice List gets exactly what they asked for every year. Why would he send an actual elf, who should be building a bike or sewing a teddy bear, to spy on me for weeks?”

Fair point, you think to yourself.

“Wait a minute... If you knew he wasn’t real the entire time, why did you let us keep hiding him?” Erik asks, a quizzical dent in his forehead.

Josie perks up, apparently thrilled to clue them in on the motivation behind her feigned ignorance. “Mrs. Thornton says even adults need a creative outlet because it makes them happier. Especially when they’re grouchy. Clearly, you’re the exception, Daddy.”

Reese honks, sending milk across the room from his nostrils.

Your sudden amusement is muffled by your free hand.

If it were humanly possible, there would be steam billowing from Erik’s crimson ears.

my lovely patrons gained access to this piece on DEC 16, 2022. learn more HERE!

asks, reblogs, and comments are very welcome and greatly appreciated! the best way to support the creators you love (and encourage them to post more for you to read) is by engaging with their content in a meaningful way!

thank you for reading, and happy holidays <3

────────────

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

⤑ to my inbox 💌

⬸ back to the catalog

⬸ back to the main blog

82 notes · View notes