#it's just some little snapshots of a life

[delirious-donna]

The Mistakes We Make [Part Eight]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: Kento has come to some startling conclusions and works to put his decisions into practice. Finding the apartment empty whilst a storm rages outside tests his restraint to the limit. It'll be fine, right?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: angst, emotionally charged argument, take the title as it's own warning cause I don't want to spoil everything

Part Seven | Series Masterlist | Part Nine

The following morning was overcast. Heavy grey rain clouds dominated the sky, threatening to burst at a moment’s notice. A breezy wind blew through the city, buffeting off the panoramic windows and carrying debris from the streets so far below up to whip against the glass. Despite the gloomy conditions, your mood was surprisingly bright and dare you say, positive.  

Sipping your coffee, the miserable weather was the furthest thing from your mind. Instead, your head was full of possibilities and thoughts of the immediate future. The second you woke up to find yourself tucked up in bed, still fully dressed but snuggled beneath the duvet, you knew exactly how you must have ended up here. Kento carried you to bed.  

Kento Nanami put you to bed with care. He didn’t leave you to sleep in an awkward position out on the couch, no. That man—that annoyingly endearing man—had lifted you carefully enough not to even disturb your slumber and carried you to bed. Someone who didn’t care wouldn’t do that, it wouldn’t make any sense.  

He likes you. You like him. It was obvious, and if the realistic snapshots of your dreams held any authenticity, maybe he had kissed your head and murmured soft sentiments to you. That part was wishful thinking but not outside the realms of plausibility given how real the dream-like moments felt when you examined them closely.  

It made you smile into your mug, lost in thoughts of what to say or do when Kento finally appeared from his room. You glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall and frowned. It was later than you expected and there was still no sign of the man that was always up bright and early. Maybe he had decided to sleep in for once, and of course, he would pick the day that you wanted to see him most to indulge in more hours of sleep.  

By noon you were worried. The apartment had long fallen silent, the music you had played earlier turned off so you could try to listen for signs of life from your host. There were none to speak of. Closer and closer you crept to his closed door until your ear was pressed against the solid oak. You couldn’t hear any movement, no rustling of sheets or footsteps to suggest he was getting dressed. No sounds of faint snoring or the distant noise of a running shower.  

“What the fuck is going on?”  

You knocked once, quietly.  

There was no answer. So, you knocked again, this time far louder and you followed it up by calling out loudly. “Kento, are you in there? Is…” you searched for the right words. “Is everything alright? I’m starting to worry.”  

Again, there was no reply. This was getting ridiculous, and your annoyance at not knowing what was going on got the better of you. The door opened whilst you kept your eyes firmly fixed on the floor just in case you were about to walk in on him half-dressed or worse… naked. However, the bedroom was empty.  

The bed was neatly made, nothing appeared out of place from the time when you had last nosed about in here. It felt like forever ago but in reality, it wasn’t that long. You stuck your head around the corner, glancing into the walk-in closet and finding it equally empty. The bathroom was next, and once again you knocked before entering to find it empty and like it hadn’t been used in at least a few hours.  

Had he left before you even woke up? It was the only thing you could think of since a thorough search of the entire apartment turned up no missing blond man. You weren’t sure why it bothered you as much as it did. He was a grown-up, he could come and go as he pleased. Yet, you expected that he might have left a note or something to let you know where he was and when he would be back, or was that assuming too much?  

In the end, you did your best not to let it sour your mood. Kento was a free man, perhaps he had errands to run, and he would be right back with groceries in hand, you simply didn’t know. You had your own agenda today, and one you were excited to get to. It had been on your mind for several days now, knowing that your time here with Kento was ending, you wanted to buy him a gift to show your gratitude for his allowing you to stay here when he didn’t have to.  

A few ideas were running through your mind as to what would be most appreciated, and the sooner you hit the stores, the sooner you hoped to come to a final decision. You wanted it to be special, something that he wouldn’t think to buy for himself. Were you putting a lot of stock in this gift? Maybe… but it was how you showed your lo—appreciation. Love was too strong a sentiment, or so you tried to reason.  

You hastily scrawled a note and left it on the kitchen island. The front door locked behind you, whilst the elevator took you down to the lobby for the battle against the elements to commence.  

Gone out. Be back later! Hope you’re having a good day. X  

 ~  

Everything was silent when he returned home. Kento wasn’t sure what he expected, and what he would prefer, but somehow it wasn’t as relieving as he expected, to walk into a noiseless space. How quickly his appreciations had changed.   

He saw the note almost immediately, not bothering to pick it up since the thought made his stomach clench with anxiety. His finger did somehow find its way to touching the small flourish of a kiss, and he scowled upon realisation. He hadn’t spent the day clearing his head and mentally running through every outcome he could foresee just to return straight back to square one. His mind was made up. Giving up everything he had built for himself was pure insanity. End of discussion.  

A powerful gust of wind pounded against the windows, drawing his attention to the weather conditions he had driven through, and his frown deepened. Kento stepped towards the glass, eyes scanning the barely visible streets below and the tiny moving umbrellas which appeared like dancing circles as people navigated around each other.  

Did you have an umbrella with you?  

Were you out in the elements or tucked up somewhere safe and cozy like a small café?  

What was so important that you had ventured out on such a horrible day in the first place?  

It didn’t matter. It was none of his business, and he should stop thinking about it.  

Picking up a random book from his overstuffed shelves fit to bursting with books he wanted to read but had never had the time for, he didn’t even glance at the title before he was settling himself in the farthest part of the couch. Sure, it was the seat that let him both keep an eye on the front door and allow him a view of the worsening weather, but he refused to acknowledge that fact.  

Three hours passed and Kento could recall exactly nothing of the pages he’d dutifully turned in his book. He read the lines of text but none of them stuck no matter how many times he repeated the action. Frustration burned hotter the longer he tried until he threw it down on the arm of the couch and turned worried eyes towards the now storm raging outside. Where the hell were you?  

It had never dawned on him to exchange numbers with you, there hadn’t seemed to be a point since you were occupying the same space, but now he saw the idiocy of such a small oversight. He was halfway towards his phone on the kitchen island to call Karin and have her send through your contact info when the door suddenly burst open.  

A small puddle surrounded your feet, every inch of you soaked right through and shivering. Your hair was plastered across your face, obscuring your eyes which didn’t help you wrestle with the half-folded-down umbrella in your hand. Several of the metal spindles were broken or sticking up at odd angles from the winds and Kento reached for you before you even realised he was there.  

“Shit! You’re soaking wet. Where the hell have you been?” Kento thundered, his tone refusing to diffuse even when you squeaked in alarm and almost stumbled backwards.  

His hand wrapped around your elbow was the only thing keeping you on your feet. The umbrella was wrenched from your grasp, a startled yelp only further fuelling the snarled expression you could make out between the messy strands of your hair. You could feel the fury ripple outward from his body and into your own. What the fuck...?  

Kento disappeared. One moment you were being firmly pulled into the living area by his strong hands and the next he had let you go and rounded the corner, out of sight. Shaking from the cold that continued to penetrate your clothes, the chill all the worse now you weren’t running on the adrenaline of battling for your life on the streets far below, you were bamboozled by his demeanour. The warmth of the apartment was apparent, but until you could strip off every layer of sodden clothing and soak your bones in a warm shower or bath, your teeth would chatter, and your limbs would shudder.  

Suddenly, you remembered to check the package, which was tucked securely inside your bag, grateful for your forethought to wrap the box in several plastic bags before placing it inside. It was unscathed and you exhaled a sigh of relief. The gift was far from inexpensive, something you would never have bought yourself and yet, you happily dropped a not insufficient amount of money on the man who returned to you with a large fluffy white towel in hand and a scowl etched across his face.  

He took the bag from your grasp before you could protest, setting it on the kitchen stool and leaning back against the counter with his arms folded. With your hair now a little less wet and back into some semblance of submission, you could see how terse his expression was and it caused you to frown in reaction. What was the problem?   

“Thanks. I’m definitely going to need a hot shower after the day I’ve had,” you conceded with a chuckle. It was your attempt at an olive branch, hoping that he would drop the bad attitude he was wearing like a cloak.  

Kento scowled harder. “Why were you out in a storm in the first place?” He was trying to calm the ire that was eating him alive, unsure where the heart of his anger truly came from, or at least, not willing to admit its source.  

“Shopping.”  

“Shopping,” he parroted back. “You risked your life to go shopping? Are you that stupid?”  

You recoiled. The words landed directly against your chest. An anger of your own beginning to bubble like water brought to a rapid boil. It was funny how fast you forgot about the steady drip of water creating a large pool around your feet, nor did you feel the cold as acutely.  

“Excuse me?”  

Kento pushed off from where he was leaning, gesticulating towards the evident storm raging outside. Sheets of heavy rain blown by the howling wind lashed the glass as if to prove his point and you seethed at him, hands curling in and out fists by your sides.  

“You heard me. What could be so important that you would risk your life in conditions like these?”   

You stalked closer, fury pounding in your veins enough to make your blood sing with molten heat. “You were out in it too!” You yelled, barely drawing breath between words. “Unless you’ve got some hidden room in this apartment that I’m not aware of. At least I had the decency to leave a note.”  

He scoffed, turning from you to increase the distance between you both but you weren’t done.  

“You could have been laying sprawled out, in need of help for all I knew! I was worried that—”   

“That is different,” he countered whilst a broad hand ran roughly through his hair. The usually neatly parted blond hair was ruffled as if he had already worked his fingers through it whilst you were out. “I was safely in a car, not traipsing around the fucking city with only an umbrella for protection.”  

This man. This perfectly outrageous, infuriating man. Oh, he was doing his damnedest to push every one of your buttons. You weren’t some stupid little girl that needed protecting or coddling.   

“And what does it matter to you? You’re not my fucking brother, Kento! At the end of the day, we’re nothing to each other!”   

Shit, that hurt. The regret was immediate; tears burning behind your eyes, threatening to blur your vision and you’d be damned if you were going to let him see them fall. Withdraw. You needed space, to pull back from this stupid, meaningless argument. Except it wasn’t meaningless.  

You made to move past his hulking frame that filled the way to the hall and the solace of your room, but two strong hands shot out to prevent you from running. His grip shook, fingers curled around your shoulders as he pulled you to him. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Kento looked downright furious; his lips curled back from his teeth with a snarl and his eyes snapped fire. The raging inferno of a wildfire—uncontrolled and dangerous—shone in those intelligent brown depths.  

“Oh no, you don’t get to walk away, not now. Do you honestly think a brother would be this worried… shit… that they would get this angry about you being in danger? I don’t think so. You’re an intelligent woman, you know this kind of reaction is reserved for something far more intimate than that.”  

His words stole the remaining air from your lungs, you were held in a vacuum with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Your eyes bounced between his, certain you hadn’t just heard what he said. It had to be all in your head, your traitorous brain implanting false declarations, but… no. He did say that. He had worried about your safety, and not because of some arbitrary sense of obligation. This man who you wanted to yell at some more. This man who you wanted to do nothing more than shut up with a kiss.  

“Wh—”  

The world stopped turning. Everything felt frozen in place as your lips found his and the relief was immediate. The starchy material of his shirt felt alien against your fingers, not that you were even sure when they had fisted into it in the first place. Kento crushed you to his chest, forcing you to step onto your tiptoes to continue the assault. His hands found your waist at the same time you curled an arm around his neck. The taste of coffee erupted on your tongue, bitter but sweetened by warm honey notes that felt indulgent.   

This moment felt forever in the making, all the missed opportunities and miscommunications seeming inconsequential now that you had him where you wanted him. You could drown in this man. The flames of your anger continued to flicker in the periphery; he wouldn’t get off this easily, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about his earlier hurled words when his tongue was pushing past the seam of your lips. He was a combination of sweet and salty, leading the dance with a gentle dominance that suited him perfectly. Kento’s hands were careful, considered in how he held you, whilst he let his tongue curl over your teeth and stroke over your own. You were kindling in his hands, soaked to the bone yet you felt not an inch of the cold penetrating your skin. Kento would set you ablaze and you’d let him.  

Your eyes hooded then finally closed, the shock of how you had both lunged in the same breath was long over and now you were simply a mass of sensations, lost to your desires and happily so. Your fingers inched towards the rough undercut at his nape only to be ripped away, shattering the cocoon of warmth in an instant. It felt like a punch to the gut, gasping like a fish out of water and you blinked in alarm.   

You could only watch whilst Kento shook his head in resignation, his face lowered so as not to look you in the eye and the scratchy feeling in your throat returned tenfold. The hands that only seconds ago tenderly explored your waist now imprisoned your wrists, preventing you from touching him any longer.  

“I can’t… we can’t do this,” he said whilst the bottom of your stomach fell out. How dare he pull you into that claim without your consent.  

“No! You mean you can’t do this. I want this, I want you, Kento. You’re the one pushing me away, holding me at arm’s length,” you half screamed back. The tears were falling fast, hot splashes against your cheeks and you hated yourself for it.  

“It won’t work. I—I’ve spent hours trying to figure out how I could make it work and I can’t.”  

Goddamn him. Didn’t he realise that it wasn’t a puzzle to solve, it wasn’t a project to manage? It should be a venture started together; he should be able to lean on you as much as you could depend on him. He was a fucking coward. The seams of your heart were being ripped open and he spoke words of reason, of logic, like those were the only things to consider. Couldn’t he see how much he was hurting you?  

“Coward.”  

He didn’t try to stop you when you pulled free, turning on your heel to snatch up a plastic-wrapped lump from your bag. You shoved it into his chest with force, resulting in a grunt of surprise at your unexpected strength.  

Kento could barely look as you barged past him to run down the hall. The door of your room slammed shut with an air of finality that churned his stomach into a mass of thorn-tipped vines. He despised the hurt that was etched across your face, the tears streaking your cheeks and the complete betrayal dulling your usually sparkling eyes. You were right; he was a coward.   

How long he stood there, staring down an empty hallway whilst the rain lashed and the winds howled, he didn’t know. Eventually, he glanced at the package in his hands and curiosity got the better of him. He pulled out a gift-wrapped box from the layers of plastic bags protecting it from the elements, a golden bow adorned it, and he smiled despite the pain. With careful fingers, the bow pulled loose, and the paper unwrapped to reveal an expensive camera.  

Kento scrubbed a palm down his face, eyes slowly shuttering at the gift he would have never considered for himself, but which was perfect. He hadn’t given you nearly enough credit, you were so wonderfully compassionate and understanding, and he had fucked everything up. He knew in his rational mind that it shouldn’t work, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t, not if you worked at it and were both willing to compromise.   

Should he…   

You needed time after what he had done. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you if he knocked on your door right now, and honestly, he wasn’t sure he had the words to make this right. Things would look better in the morning, he had to hope that there were enough remnants of what had been there before to repair the damage. Kento touched his fingertips to his lips, he could still feel yours against him and what he wouldn’t give for one more taste. One more smile. One more playful tease at his expense. One more secret glance that tightened his chest.  

“Fucking coward.”  

~  

The storm had passed by the next morning, leaving behind a beautiful cloudless sky and the dawn chorus of chirping birds. Kento woke with a start and immediately winced at the streams of sunlight filling his bedroom. He sat up with a grimace, holding his pounding head in his hands and looking down to find himself still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. A crystal-cut tumbler half-filled with amber liquor sat on his nightstand and he recalled having drunk several very full glasses to find the embrace of sleep. It had refused to come to him without the alcohol numbing his emotions and he was only glad he hadn’t done something stupid in his drunken stupor like trying to speak to you. That wouldn’t have gone over well, that much he knew.  

Speaking of you, he recounted hearing sniffling noises during the darkest part of the night, but he couldn’t tell if they were yours or if his conscience was torturing him. He wouldn’t put it past him, the midnight hours had been spent berating his stupidity and warring with the voice in the back of his head that continued to chirp that this was for the best.  

After he straightened himself out, washing his face and changing into a clean outfit, he went in search of coffee and hoped to find you in the kitchen with your morning cup. Instead, what he found was an apartment that was eerily quiet, even more so than when he returned home yesterday. Each footstep filled him with rising dread, the icy prickle of unease at his neck and no amount of scratching would relieve it.  

The whisky bottle from last night was exactly where he left it. The coffee machine was cold and unused. The camera you had gifted him lay on the couch with the golden ribbon rumpled on the floor beneath. Kento swallowed; unwilling to believe what he knew in his heart to be true. Instead of facing reality, he began his morning ritual of preparing coffee until he pulled down two mugs instead of one.   

His hand shook around the grey mug you had favoured since you burst into his world in a whirlwind of laughter and joy. The smell of French roast turned his stomach and he launched himself down the hall to confirm his suspicions. There was no answer to his insistent knocks at your door, each one another nail in his coffin until he was completely trapped.  

The room—your room—stood silent and empty.  

 Every trace that you had ever been here was gone, that was except for your scent which lingered in the air, thick with melancholy. Kento sat on the corner of your bed, his head cradled in his hands at the gravity of what he had done. Not only had he acted cowardly, but he had also caused you to run from him and that was a sucker punch to the gut.   

“You’re a fool, Nanami. A coward and a fool…”  

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento angst #jjk angst

[sloedancing]

LACUNA (noun) an unfilled space; a missing part; a gap.

#ts4 #*lacuna #*ada #*santi #OK HERE WE GO #this was supposed to be like a filme posteur #but i liked the vibes too much to write on it #anyway lacuna is the name of the little adasanti prologue i dreamt up #i'm gonna be honest it's not exciting #it's just some little snapshots of a life #my two babies who didn;t know they were missing a piece until they found it #it's all edited #i just need to be brave and post it #goodbye

[loosesodamarble]

Various Morgsele Moments

Not really a fanfic but just a series of little snapshots into Morgen and Josele's relationship.

First: the first time Josele saw Morgen sick. Second: how Josele saved Morgen's love of music. Third: embarrassing scar story. Fourth: NSFW-ish. Discussion of and implied sex but no actual act. Still, I will advise that reader who are on the young side or are uncomfy with such topic avoid the last snippet.

..........

One day, Nacht came alone to Josele's house for them to go hang out. When Josele asked why Morgen hadn't come along, Nacht told her that Morgen had fallen ill. Josele immediately and completely forgot about hanging out and raced straight to House Faust out of worry for Morgen.

Josele knocked on the door and ran inside as soon as it opened. She went to Morgen's room where he was hiding under the covers. Morgen was an overdramatic little noble and thought his pitiful sniffles were like the plague. He didn't want Josele to catch whatever he had, no matter how mild. Morgen also told Josele to go away because he was in an ugly and wretched state. Which Josele of course laughed at because he sounded absolutely ridiculous, both with his words and voice with how stuffed up he was.

Even when they were young, Josele was considerably stronger than Morgen so she was able to pull the covers away from Morgen's face. She giggled because Morgen's "ugly" state was a stuffed nose and some unbrushed hair.

Josele spent the day tending to Morgen's every need. She got him fresh water, cooked him porridge, and even sang him a lullaby. Josele assured Morgen over and over that getting sick wasn't the end of the world (and the reason Morgen needed that reassurance was because his parents definitely said that a weak, pathetic person got sick and it got to Morgen).

Nacht sat in the corner of Morgen's room watching Josele dote on Morgen. He laughed because they were so stupid for each other but also he wanted to be doted on by Josele instead.

.....

Training in performing arts like classical music is par for the course in noble upbringings. Grand pianos, violas or cellos carved from magic wood, brass horns polished to a mirror's shine. Those are the instruments that nobles are expected to play. Morgen was assigned to learn the piano while Nacht was given the violin to master, two instruments that complemented one another. Vincent and Adela Faust wanted their sons to learn discipline through their music lessons. At first, both twins did it to please their parents, as all good noble children did.

The music of the lower class is made up of humming songs while working in fields or tapping rhythms on one's kitchen table. Their instruments, considered "low brow" by nobles, include guitars, pan flutes, and drums. Josele learned music in the form of folk songs Thomas brought with him from the Forsaken Realm and the lullabies Gwenith had inherited from their ancestor Cordelia. Even those simple tunes brought Josele peace.

Music was yet another thing Morgen and Josele found themselves bonding over, despite how differently they learned it.

One day, while strolling through the woods, Josele began to hum one of her parents' tunes, catching Morgen's ear. He asked to hear her more clearly, for her to sing out loud. And because it was only the two of them and the wilderness, Josele found the courage to sing. Though her voice shook and sometimes sounded offkey, Morgen thought Josele's singing was lovely. And he wasn't the only one, as the songbirds echoed the tune, much to Morgen's delight.

"So you like music?" Josele asked once the woods had quieted down.

"I'm learned in it," Morgen stated simply. "I can't say for certain that I like music but I can't say I dislike it."

Josele hummed and nodded in understanding. "So… what kind of music do you do?"

"I play piano."

Josele perked up at Morgen's answer. "Those big wooden boxes in music stores with all the buttons?"

Morgen snickered. "Well, the one I play doesn't really look like a box… But yes. How about I show you the next time you visit?"

And show her he did. Josele circled the grand piano and stared in awe before looking at Morgen and saying, "Do you think I could fit inside?"

Morgen advised against climbing inside and offered to play a piece for her. Josele sat on the bench beside Morgen as he played. He performed an instrumental ballad, in fact the latest piece assigned for him to learn. His fingers danced the piano keys. A few times, he misplayed a note, but he eventually finished.

"Wow! That was amazing!" Josele remarked with a grin. "I've never heard something so pretty!"

Morgen smiled, or tried to. "It wasn't perfect though. And I need it to be perfect."

"Would the song sound better if it were perfect? If you got every note right?"

"I…" Morgen shrugged. "Well yes, that would be the point."

"Then try again and make sure all the notes are right!" Josele encouraged him.

And so Morgen played again. This time, not missing a single note, but the song dragged in places while he focused on the notes.

"Well now it's too slow."

"And it sounded worse," Josele muttered. She crossed her arms and kicked her feet for a moment. "What if… you played without caring about getting the song right? Just play as you feel?"

"Play as I feel?" Morgen repeated. "I don't… But what if…?"

Josele gave Morgen the biggest puppy dog eyes she could manage, earning another rendition of the ballad from Morgen.

That time, Morgen missed even more notes. His timing strayed from that which was written on the sheet music. Morgen let himself get carried away in the music for the first time since he started playing. When he finished the song and looked to Josele, she was beaming.

"That… That sounded like real music to me."

Morgen fell in love with playing music from the heart. Though he never fancied himself a musician, he liked it enough to keep at it through the years. Even after becoming a Magic Knight. And when he began dating Josele, he played music for her. Serenading her with melodies he memorized and practiced for her sake. Because of her, he fell in love with music. And so with music, he would proclaim his love for her.

.....

There was an incident early in Josele, Morgen, and Yami's Magic Knight careers where Josele and Yami were hunting down bandits. Morgen arrived later on to provide support and when he found them, Josele was nowhere to be seen.

Morgen, panicked: Where's Josie?! Is she okay?! Yami: Chill dude. Jo's alive. She's just licking her wounds over… (points) Although… (rubs the back of his neck) I'm not sure if she wants you there. Morgen: (already heading off)

Morgen walks for about a minute before he stumbles upon a tree covered in shadows. He senses Josele's mana, meaning it's her Shade of Shyness spell (embarrassment = Shadow Magic). He creates a bit of light and approaches. Josele is at the base of the tree and looks like she's sitting on her hands.

Morgen: Josie? Is everything okay? I was told you were trying to heal yourself but- Josele, turning her face away: No! No it's-! Don't look, Morgen! Morgen: Dear, I'm not going to think you're ugly bec- Josele: It's not that! It's just that-! I'm trying to heal it but I can't focus. Morgen: What if I healed it? Josele: Wha-? Nononono! If you did-! The shadows around them grow darker. Morgen: Josie, what's so embarrassing? I would think you'd be more scared than embarrassed over an injury. Josele: Well… It's because… (mumbling) Yami cut my butt… Morgen: … WHAT?! Josele: Yami did that thing where he surrounds his sword in magic and then makes a ranged slashing attack. And he wasn't aiming right and I wasn't paying attention so the attack went right past me and now I have an open wound on my ass! There! I said it! Morgen: (bursts out laughing because he genuinely does find it funny) Oh Josele. Here, let me take care of it. Josele: I don't want you to have to do something so weird! Morgen: Weird it may be, but I'd be more ashamed if I let that get in the way of me helping you. So, may I? Josele: Please…

Morgen and Josele were red in the face for the rest of the day to say the least.

.....

The suggestive, slightly NSFW scenario...

Imagine if you would, not long before their engagement...

Morgen and Josele together in one of their rooms. Morgen hummed a song and guided Josele into slow dancing. Eventually, they stopped dancing and kissed. That one kiss became two. Then a few more until they were having a full make out session. Josele ran her hand through Morgen's hair. His hands roamed over her body. Morgen pulled back then went in for another kiss a little too fast which made Josele reel and stumble back. Morgen shuffled after her. Josele tugged on Morgen's collar to pull him forward and they moved again. So caught up in one another they didn't notice where they were going until Josele hit the bed and fell onto it, Morgen falling on top of her.

They both looked at each other for a moment. Josele saw Morgen's shocked expression. Morgen saw fear on Josele's face. Josele moved first, scrambling out from under Morgen and dashing from the room.

Morgen went to Nacht. He thought Josele was scared, thinking that he expected her to sleep with him. He feared that he ruined his relationship over something non-existent. He admitted that he did want Josele in that way. But if she wasn't ready then he would wait. It was why he hid his desires so she wouldn't feel any expectation. Nacht had to calm down Morgen and remind him that Josele wasn't a delicate flower. She wasn't afraid to say "no." And Morgen had never been the demanding type which Josele knew. Something else must've been bothering her.

Josele went to Yami. Morgen had such a pure image and she was having impure thoughts about him which made her feel bad. It would've be the right, proper thing to do to wait until they were married but she couldn't stop her wants. She thought Morgen must've been alarmed by her provocativeness. Yami reminded Josele that Morgen wasn't a stuffy noble who flaunted "propriety." But even if he did want to wait, Morgen would never shame Josele's desires. He pointed out how Morgen loved Josele's improperness which reassured her.

Both of them were worried about coming off as too forward with their desires. Just another misunderstanding that they went through.

The next time they saw each other, Morgen and Josele profusely apologized for making the other worry. Morgen assured Josele that her desires were fine and healthy and even reciprocated. Josele told Morgen that she trusted with her wellbeing, that if he were to make accidentally push too far, she'd tell him and set the boundary. They both agreed that they would still wait a bit longer, to really feel comfortable with the urges they had.

They were going to prepare themselves. They would research and study. Every detail for their first time would be meticulously planned.

And then those plans were accidentally thrown out the window because Morgen and Josele just couldn't help themelves.

#black clover #morgsele #morgen faust #josele canty #black clover oc #soda's ocs #suggestive #nacht faust #yami sukehiro #just some little snapshots of morgen and josele's life together

[nautilus-that-eats-hyacinths]

uhm.

just found. a bunch of texts. with my ex. which I forgot to delete cause I forgot they existed. they're from a year ago. so much has changed. im no where near who I was. I am still 99% the same person. what the fuck. I am in distress. dude. wtf.

Mudaram as estações Nada mudou Mas eu sei que alguma coisa aconteceu Tá tudo assim, tão diferente

Se lembra quando a gente Chegou um dia a acreditar Que tudo era pra sempre Sem saber que o pra sempre sempre acaba?

Cássia Eller was so right for this, on god

translation:

the seasons have changed

nothing has changed

but I know something happened

everything's just so... different

remember when we

once believed

everything was forever

without knowing that forever always ends

#honestly I just wanna talk to my bf about this but low-key scaaaaared #also ik my bestie is gonna be low-key mad at me about it #Idk this is just such a weird feeling #I dont really remember how we were #but the texts dont get far enough to show how we grew apart #and it's just weird #it's like a little snapshot but it's pissing me off that it doesn't show the end #I have a complicated relationship with time and change lol #relationship #ex #personal #vent #on god I am scared and feeling weeeeeeird #I just want my bf to give me some cuddles but it's late #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #why is life so weird man

[bornonthelake]

pro tip: do not listen to time’s blur on vinyl unless you are ready to bawl your eyes out it’s too much

#shit got me thinking about my childhood too much and how #while i might not have had much of one it’s definitely over now #i swear something in that song be unearthing memories i didn’t even know i had #it’s like i’m watching ducks at the state fair again #and my friends are moving away and they keep coming and going until they stop coming and i didn’t have a group of friends until the 7th grad #and even that was dysfunctional as shit #and how we can’t get into the computer that has some of our oldest pictures #and so many things are on that camcorder and i don’t know where it is #and how i used to be a little girl and now i’m not even a girl at all anymore #and everything is just snapshots and there’s so few of them relative to the amount of life i’ve lived #time’s blur has come for so much of me already and it won’t stop coming and i’m moving soon #i’m moving this summer #from the place and people i’ve known my whole life #and i already don’t remember what any of them looked like the first time i met them #and soon enough i won’t remember what they look like at all #time’s blur really does come for us all doesn’t it #anyway sorry for getting emotional on main #the things lord huron does to a guy

[gi4hao]

🪁 ˎˊ- their favorite thing to do with you

— aka my take on what makes them express their love for you in a special way <3

— reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

— seungcheol + nighttime cuddles

it’s one of the rare moments when he can fully let go of his responsibilities and turn his brain off so sign him up. he’ll speed run his entire shower routine just to get five more minutes of calm cuddle time before bed. big spoon, little spoon, it really depends on his mood; but he’ll always make sure you feel held and protected no matter what, and so will you.

— jeonghan + going for a walk

at first he didn’t notice how much it meant to him. but after some time spent away from you, he realized how much he missed your silly little walks. they don’t always have a purpose, and it’s what makes them so nice. you two just wandering around town, hand in hand and your arms swinging at a regular pace. it fills his heart with nothing but love, because he thinks the world always looks a little more beautiful when you’re with him <3

— joshua + making plans for the future

whether it’s planning an upcoming trip or something more distant (your wedding for example…), joshua loves talking about his future with you. he likes to picture you in his life forever, and to hear how you picture him in yours. sometimes it’s just sleepy late-night conversations, sometimes it’s the two of you cuddling in bed and creating pinterest boards on your phones. that way when one of you gets stressed about the future, you can remember you have a lifetime to figure things out together.

— jun + watching your favorite movies

especially at the beginning of the relationship! i feel like jun could ask you to make him a list of your favorite movies and offer to watch them together, because it’s a great way to get to know each other on a deeper level. and he’d be happy to make a list of his own as well! obviously many inside jokes would emerge from these movie nights, making you the kind of insufferable yet cute couple that can hold a full conversation with no one else understanding.

— hoshi + dancing in the kitchen

sometimes it starts with him slowly swinging from left to right as he hugs you from behind, leading to something rather tender. other times it’s him grabbing your arm and making you twirl on some catchy pop-rock song. it’s his own way of expressing how happy these small moments of domesticity make him. of course he’ll also throw some singing in there, and yes he will snatch the wooden spoon from your hands to turn it into a mic.

— wonwoo + taking pictures

there are two sides to that. the first one is when a particularly aesthetic situation occurs and you both take a bunch of pretty pictures. the second one is more personal, more spontaneous. it’s wonwoo sneaking snapshots of you doing mundane things like brushing your teeth or petting a stray cat. it’s also taking low quality selfies of the two of you doing nothing in bed (with you often wearing his clothes), or just during any moment you’ll want to remember and cherish forever.

— woozi + napping

ok let’s be real here: a busy man needs to optimize his time, which means that you will get dragged into bed with him so that he can collapse on top of you and sleep like a log. but what makes it fun are the moments when he shortly emerges from his slumber and changes his position like some sort of touch-starved zombie, frowning until he gets to trap you in his arms again. he loves to say you’re exaggerating when you tell him about it, but you’re absolutely not…

—dokyeom + day trips

he loves loves loves making memories with you, so he’ll gladly dedicate half of his weekend to go on various day trips with you! he’ll pack your lunches himself, make sure you don’t have to carry any bags throughout the day, and even carry you on his back if your feet start to hurt. your camera rolls are filled with pictures of these little trips, and he wouldn’t mind talking about them for hours to anyone who will listen. he might even make a little handmade scrapbook of these memories for your valentine’s day gift :3

— mingyu + grocery shopping

you always go to the same supermarket and the cashiers all think you’re their cutest clients because of how happy you look together. there’s just something about the way he pushes the cart while reading the grocery list out loud that makes you feel like the luckiest person on the planet. also, mingyu will always insist on buying you a little treat during every grocery trip. even when you’re not with him, he knows which ones are your favorite and he never ever gets it wrong.

— minghao + museum dates

it’s the epitome of peacefulness to him. holding your hand as you wander among the artworks, discussing them, sharing your thoughts and sometimes cracking jokes in each other’s ear. when he sees you getting closer to a painting or a sculpture, he’ll stay a few steps back to take a picture of you, a proud smile on his lips as he captures the moment. “again?” you ask when you catch him in the act. “you know you look too pretty to only take one,” he replies, leaving a kiss on your temple.

— seungkwan + skincare routine

you shared a face mask with him once and it’s become a regular occurrence ever since. of course seungkwan knows how to do his own skincare, but it’s so much better when you do it for him! head resting on your lap, you could make him wear your stupidest headband and he wouldn’t even complain. he likes how gentle you are when applying the products on his face, and he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

— vernon + flea market

he likes everything about it. he likes that little game you have of pointing two remotely associated items and saying ‘us’. he likes to come up with backstories for the things that are being sold. and you like to remind him of that time he pointed at a trinket and asked “who even buys that?” right in front of the person who was about to get it (but he lets you laugh about it, because he just loves hearing your laugh). all in all, it’s a privileged moment where he gets to enjoy the beauty of simple things with his favorite person, and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

— dino + supporting your passions/hobbies

let me explain! obviously he loves it when you keep him company while he’s training or when you patiently listen to him ramble about it; so he’s really careful about reciprocating that energy as much as possible. that’s why he often comes to support you at your sports competitions, art shows, or just any kind of hobby you might have. he shows genuine interest and will always your biggest cheerleader no matter what, always pushing you to do your very best in what you love.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #joshua fluff #jun fluff #jun x reader #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #dk x reader #dk fluff #dokyeom fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #minghao x reader #minghao fluff #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan x reader #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #dino x reader #dino fluff

[joelsgreys]

splash

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

snapshots masterlist l fic notifs

summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33

Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.

She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.

“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”

He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.

“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”

But it had been too late.

Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”

Joel decided to put his foot down.

Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.

“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”

“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.

“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.

He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.

Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.

Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.

Like Rosie does.

Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall—it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.

“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”

Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”

“Joel—”

“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.

“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”

He’d found very little consolation in that.

Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.

“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.

“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”

“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”

“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”

Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.

“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”

She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”

“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”

She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”

Groaning, you shove through the front door.

You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.

It would take some getting used to—again.

“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.

There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”

“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”

“How long is a while, El?”

“She invited me to stay for dinner.”

You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”

Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”

“Did you ask Joel for permission?”

“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”

Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?” 

“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”

Sighing in defeat, you step aside. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”

“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.

There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.

Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.

“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.

“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.

He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”

Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.

“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”

She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks. 

After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”

“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”

“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”

“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”

Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”

“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.

“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”

You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.

He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.

“Joel? What happened to my child?”

“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”

“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”

Rosie beams. “Yeah!”

Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”

“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.

“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.

Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.

“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her. 

“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”

About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply. 

“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him. 

Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”

“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”

His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”

Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.

“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”

Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”

“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.

He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”

divider credit to @/saradika 🩵

#fic: snapshots #girldad!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic

[pucksandpower]

Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Max Verstappen - Social Media AU

Little (Ferrari) Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad She Wolff

Love is in the air for these two stars of the paddock! Brace yourselves as we spill the scorching hot tea on the newest potential pairing that has set tongues wagging. The grapevine is buzzing with the latest snapshots capturing none other than Ferrari’s golden boy, Charles Leclerc, and the stunning princess of the paddock, Y/N Wolff, in what can only be described as a romantic rendezvous. Oh la la! In these sizzling photos the duo can be seen cozied up in the VIP section, captivated by each other’s company and stuck in their own world, ignorant of the busy club around them. The obvious sparks between the young heartthrobs leave fans and gossip hounds wondering if there is more than just friendship brewing between them … (Read More)

A Wolff on the Prowl: Y/N Wolff spotted getting cozy with Max Verstappen

Hold onto your racing helmets because our newest racing romance just took an unexpected twist! We had barely caught our breath from the sizzling chemistry between Charles Leclerc and Y/N Wolff when another speedster entered the picture. Some lucky fans caught Y/N locking lips with the reigning world champion, Max Verstappen, leaving us all in a state of utter shock and awe. It’s a tale as old as time, with Y/N and Max gazing into each other’s eyes like they have discovered the key to the podium of love. The intensity between these two is palpable and their beaming smiles suggest that this could be more than just a passing fling. Will this newfound affair send shockwaves through F1, leaving Charles Leclerc heartbroken and fans breathless? Buckle up, dear readers, as we brace ourselves to see how this unfolds … (Read More)

y/nwolff posted a story

Just an inchident? Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen seem closer than ever despite their apparent battle for the heart of Y/N Wolff

Rev your engines because the race for Y/N Wolff’s heart is reaching exhilarating speeds! While the rivalry between Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen is as fierce as ever on the track, it seems that outside of the race itself a surprising bond has formed between these two young stars. Interestingly, during the Austrian Grand Prix cameras caught Leclerc and Verstappen sharing an incredibly close friendship. Despite their fierce competition for Y/N’s affection earlier this week, the two drivers were spotted laughing, hugging, and inseparable whenever they had a chance, proving that friendship can indeed thrive in the midst of romantic tension. Are they genuinely defying expectations and putting their hearts on hold for the sake of camaraderie or is this just a cleverly orchestrated PR move? Only time will reveal the true nature of this intriguing friendship and love triangle they are part of … (Read More)

y/nwolff

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 1,285,493 others

y/nwolff Happy Pride Month 😉

View all 4,762 comments

charles_leclerc mes amours ❤️

maxverstappen1 mijn liefdes ❤️

y/nwolff my boy toys 🥵

charles_leclerc i see how it is

maxverstappen1 she only wants us for our bodies

y/nwolff kidding, kidding. i love you both more than anything ❤️

y/nwolff and of course i don’t only want you for your bodies … i want you for your cars too

mercedesamgf1 Oh

redbullracing My

scuderiaferrari God

feralferrari this is not what i was expecting

givesyouwings i don’t think anyone predicted this but they are adorable together

silverarrows y/n has the power to build one of the most insane driver lineups ever for mercedes

y/nwolff they have to survive meeting my dad after he learns that we’re together before we can even think about that 😅

lestappenbeliever this is the best day of my life

formulanone we got married a week ago?

lestappenbeliever i said what i said but our wedding was a close second

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #social media au #charles leclerc #max verstappen #instagram au #instagram imagine #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x you #max verstappen x you #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #charles leclerc fic #max verstappen fic #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #max verstappen blurb #f1blr

[tenelkadjowrites]

Nasty - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪟 Summary: Finding comfort in the windows of the apartment building across from yours, your attention is drawn to one housing an attractive new neighbor, Seonghwa, who quickly notices your interest.

🪟 Word count: 7.2k

🪟 Genre & Warnings: one shot smut. neighbors to lovers (kinda). reader is drunk at one point (not in smut scene.) dirty talk. unprotected sex, creampie. oral sex (reader receiving). fingering. choking and hair pulling (hwa receiving). shower sex.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

               You look up from your laptop, yawning and stretching out your legs. It’s almost ten at night and you’ve lost track of time working on your latest project. The beginning of a headache is brewing, signaling that it is now a good place to stop for the night and make something to eat.

               Even so, you linger, propping your chin against the palm of your hand to idly stare out the window of your apartment which looks directly at another building. You’ve come to find comfort in most of the them – the one that always has various plants vying for the sunlight, another that switches between blue and pink hues of colour late at night, even the window that is usually shuttered – all of these have become friends in a way. You may not know a single person in the building across from yours in any real sort of capacity but you are familiar with the residents all the same.

               This familiarity is how you notice a change immediately. One window, usually empty, is now showing light spilling across cardboard boxes and a couch positioned haphazardly in the centre of the room. A new tenant must have moved in. You continue to watch, your mind wandering with all the things you need to do tomorrow when someone enters the space of the window.

               You are so used to seeing snapshots of stranger’s lives in whatever the window shows that the rare occasion an actual person appears, you’re promptly jolted out of your daydreaming.

               A slender man is opening one of the boxes, leaning forward to rummage through it. Multiple necklaces dangle off his neck, which he brushes out of his way impatiently while searching. His hair is swept up in a small ponytail. The man finds whatever he is looking for, straightening up. He’s tall, wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt. Then, he’s gone, out of frame.

               You watch curiously for a couple of seconds before losing interest, turning back to your own life, to your own thoughts.

*

               The second time you see the man is a week later when you are tidying up one evening. You happen to look up right when he is crossing the living room. He’s in a sleeveless tank top, well toned arms exposed. His features are blurry due to distance, like looking at something underwater, and then he is gone again.

               Even though it was only a split second, you realize that your heartrate is accelerated. How silly, you chastise, he’s a hazy figure in another building. With a small shake of your head, you turn back to your chores.

*

               Sighing, you turn off the TV, debating just going to bed. Of course, the moment you have some free time from work, you don’t know what to do with yourself. The long list of things to do seems overwhelming but doing anything fun is just as exhausting which results in spending five hours on the couch, watching bad reality shows.

               Now, it is a little after midnight and you cannot help but feel as though the day was wasted. Propping yourself up off the couch, you look out your window, mulling over everything. You aren’t truly paying attention to the collection of windows and that is why you don’t notice him at first.

               In fact, it isn’t until there is a flash of fabric that you sit up a little straighter. The new guy is in the window, yanking his shirt off and tossing it onto the couch. Even though he is far away, and most details are impossible to make out, the distance doesn’t hide how lithe he is nor how in shape. You swallow hard, unable to tear your eyes away for the few seconds he is in frame. I really need to get laid, you think, I’ve been too busy with work and now here I am, gawking at a guy in another apartment building so far away that it looks as if it’s a grainy JPEG.

               Even so, you remain staring at the window, hoping he comes back…and he does, this time with a beer in hand. He’s still shirtless, taking a swig from the drink and turning on the TV. Your eyes rake up along his body, wishing you were just a little closer to make out more of the details. His hair remains in a ponytail, and his pants are tight – they actually look like leather which you can’t imagine wearing.

               At that moment, the man turns to look out the window. Feeling confident in the fact he wouldn’t notice you at this distance, you squint, trying to get a better look at his features.

               That’s when he lifts his hand up and mockingly salutes you.

               With a gasp, you panic and duck back down on the couch out of his view. Immediately after doing so, you curse aloud, wondering why you would do something so foolish. You could have played it off as though you were looking elsewhere and pretended you didn’t even notice him. But to hide like this…well now, this guy knows you were staring at him like a Peeping Tom.

               Mortification sits in as you lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. What now? Well, you’ll have to keep the blinds closed forever, obviously. The chance of ever making eye contact with him again would be so embarrassing that it is time to think of your window being deleted, like an item in The Sims.

               Covering your face with your hands, you groan. Why did you check him out for such an extended period? How long did he know you were doing it to make fun of you like that? Ugh.

               After about twenty minutes of verbally berating yourself, you carefully poke your head out to look at the window. There is no sign of him but he hadn’t closed the blinds either. Quickly, you scamper over and close yours, letting out a small sigh of relief.

               It is definitely time for bed.

*

               Two weeks later, you’re in the grocery store, staring at the various options of oat milk and feeling overwhelmed. This was how you spent most days now – in a state of overwhelm: with work, keeping friendships up, with whatever the concept of being an adult meant.

               “I prefer the one on the top shelf, myself. With the red cap. I think it tastes a little sweeter.”

               It takes your brain a few long seconds to realize someone is speaking to you. Surprised, you look to your side and then promptly make a strangled noise in the back of your throat.

               It’s Hot Window Guy only this time he isn’t a blurry figure but in perfect clarity in front of you. You recognize him by the ponytail and his slender figure. Momentarily frozen, all you can do is stare. He is tall, wearing a baggy black t-shirt that has a faded logo on it. His jeans hang off his hips, ripped at the knees. His fingers are dotted with small tattoos. His brows are immaculate, like something you usually see in YouTube makeup videos, and his facial features look to be made of marble. The bridge of his nose is long, a distinctive part of his face, with full plump lips.

               There is even a striking tattoo on his neck, two black vines curling around his skin, dotted with bright drops of colour on the red roses. Seeing someone so striking against the backdrop of a generic grocery store, under the harsh fluorescents while top forty radio plays, feels jarring.

               “What?” You finally reply. Great, amazing, really killed it with that one.

               Hot Window Guy points to the assortment of oat milks. “That one, with the red cap. It’s the best one here,” When you don’t reply, he explains, “You’ve been standing here for five minutes so I figured I’d help you out.”

               “How do you know I’ve been here for five minutes?”

               “I saw you when I first turned in this direction. I grabbed my items, which takes me roughly five minutes because I get the same stuff almost every time and when I circled back, you’re still standing here.” He frowns. “Actually, it could be longer than five minutes since you were standing here when I entered, now that I think about it.”

               You yank open the door and snatch the oat milk with the red lid off the shelf, unable to look him in the face again. He’s just too attractive. Why is he talking to you? Does he not realize you were gawking at him through the windows a couple weeks ago?

               “Great, well, thank you,” You say quickly, ready to bolt, “Thanks for the help.”

               “You live in the building across from mine, right? I recognize you from through the window.”

               Your face is warm. You’re pretending to rearrange things in your shopping basket even though all you have is oat milk and some coffee. “Yup, yup.”

               There is a hint of amusement in his next sentence. “You’ve kept the blinds closed since I saluted you. You ever gonna open them again?”

               You think about lying, pretending to have no idea what he is talking about. But you know he would see right through it. Instead, you force yourself to look at him. God, he’s hot, you think, trying to wrangle your brain under control.

               “I was embarrassed that you saw me looking and I was worried I looked creepy.”

               “You stare in everyone’s windows like that?”

               “I wasn’t – I was just looking out my own window and you came into view, that’s it. It wasn’t…it’s not like a kink of mine,” Immediately embarrassed at saying the word kink, you keep blathering, “Like, it isn’t a habit. I just…we all have windows. I was looking out mine.”

               “Right, directly into mine. When I was shirtless.”

               You exhale slowly, feeling incredibly flustered. You manage to look at his face although it is like staring at the sun. He is fighting off a smirk, his basket of items pressed against his hip.

               “What’s your name?” He prompts and after you give yours, he says, “I’m Seonghwa.”

               You nod, taking a step back. It isn’t that you don’t want to be around him – it is simply that he is too attractive and you’re too desperate. He’ll notice and that will be even more embarrassing.

               “Alright, nice meeting you. Bye!” You say quickly, shuffling away from the gorgeous man with the neck tattoo and all the overwhelming variations of oat milk.

*

               But your curiosity gets the best of you and later that night, the blinds seem to beckon. It would be so easy to open them again because since Seonghwa teased you about how they are now always closed. Truth be told, you were starting to miss sunlight during the day and the comforting pull of the illuminated windows at night. Admittedly, it is unrealistic to think that you can never open the blinds ever again.

               But it isn’t until almost midnight that you grow the courage to open them. Your eyes immediately check for the usual windows, seeing the familiar sights of multicoloured lights, plants, TVs, and finally Seonghwa’s.

               But it’s dark. He’s either not home or he’s asleep.

               You feel disappointed although you aren’t even sure what you’re expecting. Leaning against the wall, you think back to the exchange in the store. Was he flirting with you? No, you cast that aside. You weren’t the type people flirted with. In your mind, you trace the way the basket rested on his hip, the curve of his neck with his hair swept up, the way his baggy shirt looked on him –

               Phew, you think, knowing that a guy hasn’t impacted you like this in a long time. Your brain is creating an assortment of downright pornographic mental images which forces you to shut the blinds once more, sternly telling yourself to go to bed.

*

               You’re slightly drunk, teetering in your heels after a night out with your friends. The temperature has dropped considerably over the course of the last few hours and your thin sweater is not helping in the slightest. But you’re almost home, having seen your last friend off just down the street.

               It’s easily one in the morning and the city is filled with that energy that only Saturday nights can bring. The relief of blowing off steam, the taste of alcohol burning on the way down, the heat of bodies pressing together in crowded bars – you notice all these things. But, drunk or not, your favourite part is the glow of the city buildings and the sense that no one is ever truly asleep; there is always something going on.

               So, you take your time, soaking in the moment before reality will come crashing in with Sunday morning.

               That’s why you don’t notice Seonghwa.

               But he notices you.

               “Oh, it’s my neighbor,” A voice says while exiting a bar, leading you to stop in your tracks as all the oxygen leaves your lungs. “This is the girl I was telling you about, Hongjoong.”

 ��             You turn to see Seonghwa in an oversized fur coat. His jeans are well worn but he has a black dress shirt on underneath the coat paired with many necklaces and rings on every finger. His hair is slightly messy in the usual ponytail. On anyone else, the outfit would look ridiculous. On Seonghwa, it looks sexy and comfortable.

               His friend is shorter with facial features so delicate you think of glass. His hair is a shock of red, messed up from the night breeze. Wearing a perfectly tailored dark blue blazer with dress pants, he looks like Seonghwa’s complete opposite as though the two men didn’t share the memo on where they would be going that night.

               “Oh, the Peeping Tom?”

               Embarrassed and intoxicated, you make a sputtering noise of protest. Seonghwa nods and moves closer.

               “You going home?” Seonghwa asks.

               You nod and go, “You’re not?”

               “No, we’re just getting started tonight,” Seonghwa lingers on the word and a heat slowly spreads across your body at being so near him combined with the deepness of his voice, “But you still have a bit of a walk back to your place. Want me to take you?”

               “No, no – thank you. I appreciate it. But that won’t – I’m fine.” You’re mostly worried that being drunk around him will lead to embarrassing yourself further.

               You picture wrapping your hands around his neck, covering the tattoo while squeezing. The image is so vivid that your heart skips a beat. Seonghwa has an expression on his face – like he knows what you’re thinking about.

               He shrugs out of his fur coat. “Here, wear this on the walk back.”

               You’re trying to form a coherent sentence but between the booze and how turned on you are, it just comes out as gibberish.

               Seonghwa, misunderstanding you completely, goes, “It’s faux fur.”

               “No, I – won’t you be cold?”

               “Yeah, won’t you be cold?” Hongjoong chimes up mockingly, raising one eyebrow at Seonghwa.

               “If I get cold, you’ll let me wear your blazer,” He replies smoothly.

               Hongjoong looks affronted. “You most certainly will not wear my blazer.”

               But Seonghwa has tuned his friend out, bringing his attention back on you while his hands sweep the coat around your shoulders. It’s comically big on your frame but is incredibly warm. But you’re staring at the motion of his hands as he straightens the coat gently around your neck and shoulders. His rings glitter in the streetlights and he’s wearing a faint cologne that makes your head swim.

               Hongjoong is still complaining but Seonghwa’s face is so close to yours that it is all you can focus on. Your body is practically screaming for him; you wonder how evident it is that you’re desperate to fuck him. You are sure that your breathing is uneven and that you’re staring at his lips.

               “How will I get it back to you?”

               Seonghwa’s voice is soft while replying, “What’s your apartment number?”

               You tell him.

               “I’ll come by tomorrow night for it.”

               You’re too tongue tied to reply, merely nod. Seonghwa straightens up. His shirt fits him perfectly, like a second skin, and you want to peel it off him, run your fingers along his stomach –

               “See you tomorrow.” He says and then just to make fun of you, he gives a small salute before turning and walking away with Hongjoong, leaving you on the sidewalk in his oversized coat among the city lights.

*

               It’s seven in the evening and you’ve been staring at the TV, not registering anything for an hour now. Seonghwa’s coat is in your lap, bunched in between your fingers. He said tomorrow night. Which is tonight. But no stated time. Night would technically indicate before midnight because after midnight, it’s considered morning. But not everyone thinks of it like that. Which would mean maybe the middle of the night. But who just shows up like that in the middle of the night? And why am I jumping to conclusions? He might knock, ask for his coat and leave. Why am I assuming he would stick around?

               Pathetically, though, you do want him to stick around. You want to fuck him, to be blunt about it. You’d settle for making out. Seonghwa makes your head buzz and your thinking muddled. You barely know him but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.

               This circular thinking occurs for another hour until ten minutes past eight, there is a knock at your door. Jumping up, you catch yourself, count to ten, and then open the door as if you hadn’t been waiting in agony for Seonghwa.

               But there he is, in front of you, in the hallway of your apartment building.

               “Hi,” You say breathlessly.

               Seonghwa wears a pair of dark blue jeans with a thick black belt, a sharp contrast from his golden dress shirt that looks casually tossed on at the last second. The fabric is thin, slightly shiny, and the buttons are fraying. The top of his chest is exposed, the shirt dipping to show off his tanned skin and one silver necklace with a green pendant adorning it. His ponytail is messy, black strands of fine hair framing his pretty face. In the dim lighting of the hallway, you can see the red roses tattooed around his neck with the bright blooms of colour against the vines.

               You sort of feel as though someone has bashed you over the head with a gigantic fish or some other ridiculous object at the sight of him. You were hoping to look casual, as though you’ve given no thought to him coming by, which means you’re wearing just sweatpants and a shirt. Of course, your cutest bra and underwear is on…just in case.

               Seonghwa’s top lip curls slightly, warding off a smirk as he goes, “Hi. It isn’t too late, is it? I had to go out earlier and it was difficult leaving. Hongjoong kept complaining, wanting me to stay.”

               This man could have shown up at four in the morning and you wouldn’t have cared. “No, it’s fine. Would you like to come in?”

               You are hoping he does, worried he will opt just to quickly ask for his coat and leave. To your relief, Seonghwa nods, stepping inside and slipping his shoes off. When he isn’t looking, you exhale slowly in an attempt to wrangle your emotions under control.

               He follows you into the living room where you offer him something to drink and he asks for water. Your place is small, allowing you to see him from the kitchen.

               “Did you come from a party?” You ask, trying to make some sort of conversation.

               “Did the shirt give it away?” He jokes, “I did but we were out so late last night. I didn’t get to bed until almost seven so I left early tonight.”

               “In the morning?” You are shocked – getting home past one last night was late for you.

               Seonghwa gives a small shrug in reply. The shirt is so thin. You’re distracted by the material and how easy it would be to tear it right off him. Returning to the living room, you hand him the glass of water and gingerly sit down on the couch. Seonghwa takes his place next to you.

               You scoop the coat up, handing it to him. He grabs it, his long fingers gripping the fabric. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. You weren’t cold last night?”

               “I wasn’t outside too much. We went to a house party and I didn’t need it there.”

               You get the feeling Seonghwa leads a very different life than yours – one full of parties and who knows what sort of activities.

               “So, you didn’t just move to the city?”

               “No, I’ve lived here my whole life. Just upgrading my place. Although I do need some help decorating it. You should open the blinds again and tell me what you think of the place next time I’m there.”

               You shift nervously, already feeling your cheeks grow warm. He takes a sip of water before resting the glass on the coffee table.

               “Please don’t misunderstand,” You begin to say, “I wasn’t peeping. I just was looking out the window, that’s all. I find it comforting at night. Certain windows become comforting. Like you always know what to expect when you see them. Knowing they are home, hoping they’re having a nice night when they aren’t. Do you know what I mean?”

               Seonghwa tilts his face in your direction. There is an unreadable expression on his face when he replies, “I know what you mean.”

               A quiet moment passes.

               “But you were looking at me. A little longer than you normally would. Weren’t you?”

               “I…” You clear your throat gently. “I was just surprised to see someone half undressed in the window like that.”

               “So, it was just that you were surprised and had nothing to do with me then?”

               You’re torn between throwing yourself at him and hiding under your covers. You get the feeling Seonghwa is good at this, this sort of flirting, this way of wording things and playing coy. You are not especially when the man is as gorgeous as him.

               You make a sort of strange, garbled noise that isn’t actually a word known in any language. Seonghwa grins for a brief moment, shifting slightly so that his knee touches yours. Even though there is no skin to skin contact, it is enough to make your head dizzy.

               “It’s okay,” Seonghwa whispers secretively while tilting his face close to yours, “You can admit it.”

               The tension is so thick that it smothers. Even though you know next to nothing about this man, there is no denying how much you desire him.

               “You’re not usually the type of guy I like,” You mumble.

               He brings his slender fingers, dotted with small tattoos, to your chin, gently bringing your lips ever nearer. His eyes are half lidded, lips barely parting when replying, “What’s your type?”

               “Nice guys.”

               “I’m nice,” Seonghwa replies in that ever deepening voice as the precipice looms.

               His fingers are warm against your chin. His lips are a pretty shade of pink, begging to be kissed. So quietly that you aren’t even sure if he can hear it, you whisper, “I don’t want you to be nice.”

               Seonghwa’s body is shifting in your direction. The coat is forgotten, still in his lap – a paltry excuse to come over and you both knew it. Perhaps the desire to sleep together was always a mutual one. Regardless of when the seed took root, you somehow both knew it would end up right here.

               “What do you want me to be then?” He murmurs, his breath like soft feathers against your lips.

               “I want you to be nasty.” The words land gently in Seonghwa’s lap, a cat laying down for a nap, and the corners of his lips quirk up for a split second in a smile.

               “I can do that,” He replies and kisses you.

               The sensation of his lips overwhelms all your senses. You have no interest in playing coy; your desire for him is too much, too strong. Reaching for his hands, you press them against your body in a silent plea to give you more. Seonghwa obeys, his hands traveling upwards to grope your breasts through your shirt. The kiss deepens and his tongue is in your mouth. You can taste him, crave more of him.

               Your skin is hot and your heart is racing. Your hands grip the front of his shirt, using the last of your self control not to tear the flimsy fabric off his chest. Instead, you bite down on his bottom lip and Seonghwa groans in pleasure. He moves one hand downward to the front of your sweatpants, pressing his palm against your clothed pussy. He rubs it a little, creating enough friction that makes you whimper in his mouth.

               You suck on Seonghwa’s tongue for a couple of seconds which causes him to make a small noise in the back of his throat that does nothing to calm you down. He’s pawing at you now through your clothes and you are gripping his shirt so hard that it is crumpled in your fingers.

               Your underwear is sticking to your pussy from how wet it is and from Seonghwa’s palm pressing there. Thankfully, his hand moves, slipping under the band of your sweatpants. The kisses are growing messy, the urgency at which the two of you want one another threatening to spill over.

               That’s when one of the buttons of his shirt pops off. Surprised, you break the kiss to look down at it in your hand. Seonghwa only laughs as you hastily apologize for ruining his shirt.

               “It’s fine.” He doesn’t seem to care at all, instead his tone indicates amusement. “It’s an old shirt.”

               “Even so, I don’t –” Your sentence is cut off with a moan as Seonghwa brushes his finger across your swollen clit through the front of your underwear.

               “What was that?” He asks.

               Your head is swimming while trying to retrieve the sentence from the haziness of your mind. “I don’t want to ruin your shirt.”

               “You can ruin anything you’d like,” Seonghwa says as his fingers push your underwear to the side. “I don’t mind.”

               Once again, your reply is cut short by Seonghwa deftly rubbing your clit with his index finger. His lips find yours and whatever sentence you could have formed is washed away by how good everything is. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit, the pace ever increasing, and you realize he is going to make you finish.

               In between kisses, Seonghwa murmurs, “God, you’re fucking soaked.” There is a note of approval in his voice that you instinctively react to, arching your hips slightly.

               Your breathing is uneven as your orgasm draws close. Seonghwa doesn’t stop – to him, it is like making you finish already is just the first step in the night ahead, not the ending event. When you cum, your head rolls back against the couch as he leans down to kiss along your neck, nibbling on your skin.

               Your hips lower back down as you realize he hadn’t removed an inch of clothing to make you climax like that. Seonghwa brings his finger to his lips, licking it clean to taste your pussy. You reach for him, crushing his lips against yours while bringing your hand against the front of his jeans to touch the bulge straining on the denim. Seonghwa inhales sharply. Your impatience is nipping at your heels. You want to feel him inside you; your orgasm did nothing to sate your desire.

               Kicking off your sweatpants, you get in Seonghwa’s lap, tossing the coat to the side. Fiddling with his belt, you grind down on his jeans and he groans again. The belt joins the coat, a small collection of items that are no longer necessary to what is unfolding. It takes only a few extra seconds to free his cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers. Seonghwa shivers at your touch as you grind your pussy against him while hastily unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, exposing his chest.

               He’s in shape, with perfect skin, warm to the touch. The green pendant rests against his skin, cold to the touch when your fingers brush against it. His shirt remains open, hanging off his shoulders. Between all the making out, his hair is messy, the ponytail threatening to come undone.

               Positioning yourself so that the head of his cock is at your entrance with your underwear pushed to the side, you sink down, taking his length easily. Seonghwa is thick, filling your pussy up as you shudder from the intensity. He groans, eyes fluttering for a few seconds as he takes in the sensation of your warm walls around his cock. His hands rest on your hips, waiting for you to get used to him.

               You can’t remember the last time you wanted someone this badly. The fact you know so little about Seonghwa matters not; you are too focused on how sexy he looks and how good it is to have his cock inside your cunt.

               You tentatively rock your hips, enjoying the feeling of being stuffed. Your hand goes down to play with your swollen clit. You’re not even bouncing in his lap, instead marveling at the pleasure of just having him inside you.

               Seonghwa moves one hand upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your lips while he asks in a soft voice, “That feel good, baby?” After nodding, you open your lips slightly, just enough for his thumb to enter.

               You bite down on him gently while still moving your hips. Your tongue presses against his thumb. He is watching you with lust and when he catches a glimpse of your tongue, he pulls his thumb away and growls out, “Come here.”

               He pushes you towards him, driving his cock further inside your pussy while hungrily kissing you. This kiss is sloppy, tongue against tongue. Your hand is on the back of his neck, pulling out the tie in his hair. The black strands fall messily around his face and around your fingers.

               You start bouncing in his lap while kissing. His hands gently rest on your lower back. Both of you are barely undressed; time is of the essence. His spit is in your mouth and you are sure that you’re making a lot of noise but don’t care. It simply feels too good and it has been far too long since you’ve fucked anyone.

               The kiss breaks and with a gasp, Seonghwa requests, “Pull my hair.”

               And you do, giving it a sharp tug while he drives his cock deep into your hole. His cheeks are flushed with a reddish hue and his lips are slightly swollen from all the kissing and biting. You’re staring at Seonghwa’s neck, admiring the way the vines of his tattoo curl around his skin. The bright red of the small roses match the tiny plums of colour on his cheeks.

               Seonghwa notices that you’re staring and seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he reaches for your hands, bringing them up to his neck. You squeeze and he groans, eyes closing as he arches his hips to slam his cock upwards inside your cunt.

               His breathing is growing ragged and you know he’s close. “Do it again,” He pleads in a strangled voice and your hands tighten around his neck once more. He looks exquisite as his pleasure reaches the pinnacle. He groans, head rolling back as you release the grip on his slender neck. His hair is splayed out against the back of the couch, his toned chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes flutter closed.

               Small moans topple out from in between Seonghwa’s pretty pink lips as he climaxes. Filling your cunt with his cum, your hands run down his chest, feeling his muscles underneath your fingertips. When his head begins to clear, Seonghwa opens his eyes, fixating his gaze on you.

               Gently, he shifts positions, sliding you off his lap, tugging up his boxers and moving so that he’s facing you. He tugs off your underwear, tossing them to the floor and spreads your legs apart. Unsure of what he is going to do, you’re surprised when he brings two fingers to your entrance and slips them inside the mess he’s left in you.

               Seonghwa begins to pump his fingers in and out of your hole quickly, bringing his face downwards to wrap his lips around your clit. The entire process only takes a few seconds and the intensity of the pleasure hits you hard. Gasping, your hand finds his hair, gripping onto it while being finger fucked. You can hear the pornographic sounds of Seonghwa’s long fingers plunging in your wetness that is filled with his load. The tip of his tongue rapidly flicks across your clit.

               His shirt is hanging off his shoulders, his jeans loose around his waist. His tongue feels like the best thing in the world, only slightly better than the way his fingers curl upwards inside your cunt. The sound of his tongue lapping at your clit mixed with the squelching of his fingers makes you finish with a loud moan, unable to stop from grinding your hips against his face.         

               Seonghwa stops touching your clit, bringing his tongue to your hole instead to lick up his cum and yours. Your hand releases his hair while trying to catch your breath. Seonghwa looks up then with a devilish look in his eyes that makes your skin warm all over.

               He gets up, making no effort to button up his shirt. “May I use your bathroom?” He indicates the mess on his face, leaving down the small hallway after you tell him where it is.

               You quickly wiggle your underwear and sweatpants back on as your face grows hot. You haven’t ever slept with someone so soon after meeting them. But you’ve also never desired someone as much as Seonghwa before. Now what? You wonder if he’s just going to return and tell you that he needs to go.

               But when he returns, the remaining buttons on his shirt lazily done back up (one is skipped completely in the middle), he plops back down on the couch, looking in your direction.

               “You wanna grab dinner?”

*

               “Showering with someone is never sexy,” You say while shoving the leftovers from the Chinese takeout that was ordered an hour earlier into your fridge, “It sounds sexy in theory but someone is always just out of reach of the shower head and is cold or they don’t like the water temperature or whatever.”

               The conversation about fooling around in the shower had started ten minutes prior when Seonghwa made a flirtatious suggestion. But with only uninspired sexual shower experiences to fall back on, you had demurred until Seonghwa got a confession out of you that it was your belief nothing sexy happened in the shower.

               He’s lounging on the couch, looking completely comfortable, like someone who has been in your apartment a thousand times. His hair is still down and out of the small ponytail, curling against the nape of his neck.

               “I’m different,” Seonghwa protests, clearly shocked someone doesn’t want to shower with him.

               “Not like the other girls?” You joke, sitting back down on the couch.

               “I’m not,” He refutes, “Let me show you. It’ll be fun.”

               “It’ll be awkward.”

               Seonghwa gazes at you steadily with that same mischievous look on his face that he had the night he saluted you through the window. Your heart skips a beat, picturing the hot water rolling down his skin. He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking about once again because he leans forward, close enough to kiss you.

               “No,” He murmurs and you both know that he’s got you in his web, “It’ll be nasty.”

*

               Ten minutes later, you’re pressed against the cold wall of your shower while incredibly hot water runs down your body. Seonghwa’s lips are on yours, his body lithe and warm, angled against your body. His kisses are slow this time, deepening with each one while his hands roam across your body. You can feel him stiff against your thigh.

Seonghwa’s lips are on your neck now, sucking on the skin, while your hand curls around the pendant. It’s warm against your palm, quieting all your nerves in the strange familiarity of it and Seonghwa.

               “See, this isn’t so bad,” He mumbles in that deep voice of his as his hand slinks downward in between your thighs, “Not awkward at all. Maybe it’s just the people you’ve been with.”

               There is no witty retort because his finger touches your clit. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hard muscles under your hands as he continues to lazily rub your swollen nub.

               “Maybe if you had slept with a neighbor sooner, you wouldn’t have had any awkward shower experiences,” Seonghwa continues conversationally, “I’m just thinking aloud.”

               His finger moves off your clit and dips in between your wet folds. You’re thinking about his dick back inside your cunt, thinking about his hips moving –

               “Well, I guess we should get out now,” Seonghwa says casually, and your eyes snap open.

               “What?” You say, confused.

               “You weren’t really into the idea, right? So, we don’t have to spend long in here.”

               You pull away from him, looking at his face. The confusion is swiped clean at seeing that glint in his eye. “Are you teasing me?” You ask.

               “Now, why would I do that?” Seonghwa replies in mock seriousness. “I’m being considerate. I’m being a nice guy.”

               You’re squirming against his fingers now, which have gone still just outside your hole. “Well, stop.”

               At this, he laughs. “Stop being considerate? What should I do then?” You like the way his wet hair frames his face, jet black against his skin.

               “Fuck me,” You say plaintively.

               Seonghwa adjusts, reaching down for your leg, resting your foot on the small shower shelf. His cock is pressing against your pussy lips and the steam is thickening from how hot the water is. Seonghwa hasn’t complained once about the temperature.

               “You want me to fuck you, baby?” After you nod, he goes, “Then hold onto me.”

               And you do, curling your body close to his with one foot planted firmly on the shower floor and the other on the shelf. Seonghwa’s hands are on your lower back, pressing you tightly against him as he slides his cock inside your wet cunt.

               The sensation of him filling you up from this angle makes you clutch Seonghwa harder. His skin is hot against your hands, your face is buried in his neck as the water makes your bodies slick against each other.

               “Fuck, your cunt is tight,” Seonghwa growls when he is fully inside.

               You’d speak but your mind is wiped clean of any words, lost to the sensation of his big cock buried to the hilt in your hole. He moves his hips slightly, just enough to make you whimper. Your hand is on the back of his neck and you can feel his wet hair on your fingertips.

               His hands move down to your ass, gripping it hard as he starts to pump his hips. The water runs down your bodies as Seonghwa fucks you. His skin is flushed, his lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. He’s making noises that only give you cause to want him more. He holds you so tightly that you aren’t afraid of slipping. Your own grip on him is just as hard, refusing to let him go as if the two of you can become one in that moment.

               The angle is delicious as the tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot. You bite down on his shoulder from the intensity of the pleasure and Seonghwa groans in approval. His tattoos look brighter somehow in the water and you drag your lips up along the vines that curl around his delicate neck.

               He pants out your name as his movements quicken. Your walls tighten around his length, anticipating his load. Your own climax is approaching as Seonghwa as his thrusts increase in speed. The sound of skin against skin, the shower water striking you, the steam rising and filling the space and the hungry kisses – all of it collides in one moment, overwhelming your senses.

               When you climax, so does Seonghwa. Together, your pleasure crests and breaks. Your pussy milks his cock which spills inside you, leaking out from in between your folds. Seonghwa tilts his face towards you, finding your lips with his and kisses you slowly.

               When he pulls away to study your expression, he goes, “So? How was that?”

               Panting, you reply, “Good. Good shower experience.”

               “Told you,” Seonghwa says smugly. “You know, I fuck even better in a bed.”

               And you smile.

*

               Your phone buzzes late one evening, a week after your night with Seonghwa. Yawning, you look at your phone, half asleep watching TV.

               The text reads, “Cum 2 the window.”

               If it had been sent by anyone else, you would have found the fuckboy style of writing tiresome. But on Seonghwa, you don’t mind it at all. Getting off the couch, you lumber towards the window, looking over at Seonghwa’s.

               He is standing there, shirtless in just a pair of black jeans with his hair up. After the night together, you hadn’t thought you would hear from him again. He seemed like the type to fuck and go; maybe it was his personality, the swagger he had, or a combination of it. You assumed people would throw themselves at him with such regularity that he could go through lovers swiftly.

               But Seonghwa texted you all week, engaging in a mixture of sexting and actual conversations. Neither of you had been quick to jump into bed together again; drawing it out created more pleasure than darting over to each other’s apartments every time the urge struck.

               You type back, “Did you drag me off the couch just to stare at you shirtless?”

               Even from the distance, you can just barely make out his grin. “Maybe.” The expression is familiar; it is the same one he wore after basically fucking you into the mattress after the shower sex. “Wanna cum over?”

               “Too cold,” You reply teasingly, “You’re the one with that ridiculous coat. You come over.”

               Seonghwa cocks his head to one side. You wonder tonight if the pressure will crack and break. His reply pops up a few seconds later. “Alright. I’ll be there in 15.”

               Your heart swoops. You don’t reply, just lift your gaze from the phone to look over at him in his window, your heart swelling.

               And Seonghwa playfully salutes before dipping out of view.

the end.

#seonghwa x reader #ateez fics #seonghwa smut #ateez smut #seonghwa fics #kpop fic #nasty #100 notes #500 notes

[woso-dreamzzz]

Day In The Life

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Natalia offers the fans a snapshot of your life

"Hola," Natalia says, beaming at her phone," I'm going to take you all on a little journey today." She grabs some of her skincare from the bathroom cabinet. "It's my day off today and my girlfriend and I are planning to spend the day together."

She winks at the camera as she finishes her skincare routine.

"It's pretty early for her. Nine in the morning. She likes to sleep in."

There's scuffing at the bathroom door and Natalia rolls her eyes and opens it. She picks up her phone and angles the camera downwards.

"This is the lovely Prins. He came with my girlfriend."

Prins' tail wags at the mention of his name and walks around in circles.

"He speaks Danish," Natalia continues," And Swedish when he's being nice so I've no idea how to tell him how to do anything." She laughs from behind the camera. "Sometimes, I think he only tolerates me because I live with him and his mami."

Prins barks once before scampering further into the apartment.

"So, my skincare is done, I've already showered so all I've got to do is change into my day clothes and-"

The screen cuts for a moment.

"There. This is my fit for today. We're not doing much so I've gone very casual."

The camera cuts again and it's set up on what must be a bedside table. The angle is slightly slanted and the sun streaming in through the curtains is just light enough to see it reflect across your face.

You're still sleeping and the camera picks up Natalia creeping up from behind you, pulling you closer to her by the waist.

It's with great ease that she holds you there. Her hand is splayed over your hip and your previously frowning face relaxes even though you're still fast asleep.

"Amor," Natalia says, her nose nudging at your sensitive neck," Mi vida, it's time to get up."

You fidget a little, trying to escape the touching of your neck. You shift your shoulders too and one of your hands moves to rest on the one that's holding you.

"Talia?" You ask, voice thick with sleep. You refuse to open your eyes. "It's early."

"We have plans, amor," She reminds you," You have to get up now if you still want to take Prins out this morning."

You pry your eyes open after Natalia lays several feather light kisses to your cheeks. You notice the camera instantly and the tiniest of smiles pokes at your lips.

"I look a mess, Talia," You say as you stare at the camera in amusement.

"You look beautiful," Natalia replies," My beautiful, beautiful girlfriend."

You laugh. "I hope you keep that in when you post this. It'll get my moster Frido off my back about being the sappy one in this relationship."

The camera cuts off just as Natalia rolls you over onto your back again.

"Look at my girlfriend," Natalia says from behind the camera," Taking our son out for a walk."

You're sitting on the ground, pulling on your shoes. You smile at the camera.

"Prins," You say, shaking his leash," Kom her (come here)!"

Prins approaches, his tail wagging furiously when he finally notices what you're holding.

"She's leaving me," Natalia whines jokingly," My beautiful girlfriend, leaving me here, all alone."

You roll your eyes. "She's so dramatic!"

"You love me for it."

"Of course I do. I'll see you in a bit."

The camera flips to Natalia's joking pout. "I miss her already."

When the camera cuts in again, it's a shot of your joined hands, swinging. It cuts again and Natalia's behind you, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck as you try to squirm away.

The video captures a few more things. A little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and a table with two coffees. A shot of you recording in the mirror, giving Natalia heart eyes that has the whole internet going feral as she browses through clothes at a store.

There's a romantic meal too. The camera cuts in on you with your hand lying on the table, reaching across it to hold Natalia's. It's dark out now and the restaurant looks like one of those fancy, upscale ones that people spend months on a waiting list to even book a meal at.

You're smiling, not at the camera but just behind it where the viewers know Natalia is. The actual video is suddenly muted and you're saying something that people can't quite lip-read.

The camera shakes like Natalia's been caught off guard and starts laughing.

You smile even wider.

When the camera cuts again and the audio returns, you're both curled up on the sofa together.

Reina is stretched out along the back and Prins lies mostly in Natalia's lap with his head resting in yours. The tv is on low in the background as Talia drops a quick peck on your lips.

"And that was our day," She says to the camera as you rest your head against her shoulder," Did you have fun today, mi vida?"

You nod, closing your eyes as her fingers gently scratch at your scalp.

"She's sleepy," Natalia says," She's a homebody so she doesn't go out much but she did it for me today because she loves me."

"Love you," You murmur, just audible enough for the microphone to pick up.

"Love you too," Talia whispers back before raising her tone again," We're probably going to watch a movie now. There's-"

She cuts off when the front door opens and the viewers are treated to the image of her eyebrows shooting all the way up to her hairline and a look of pure terror.

"Surprise!" The recognisable voice of Pernille is audible.

"Natalia Guijarro!" The equally recognisable voice of Magda snaps," Get your hands off her! There'll be no funny business where I can see it!"

It's like Natalia hasn't even realised the camera is still running because she puffs out her cheeks in annoyance and says back," You don't even live here! How did you get a key?"

You sleepily push off from Talia's shoulders and rub your eyes.

"Momma? Morsa? Did I forget you were coming?"

"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you knew we were coming," Pernille says. Her hands come into frame as she cups your face and presses a kiss in greeting to your forehead.

"I mean it, Natalia!" Magda continues after giving you your own soft greeting," Hands where I can see them! You will not defile my daughter in my presence."

Natalia splutters. "I-I don't defile her! I...We..."

"Morsa," You groan, your cheeks flushing red," You're embarrassing me."

The last shot captured is off Magda's fingers reaching out to pinch your cheek.

"Good," She says," One of has to."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

[chrollohearttags]

no face, no case • eren jaeger x black !fem reader

who knew that a simple picture posted on your Instagram could cause so much controversy? Oh…if only they knew the origin of it.

themes: just some nasty ass vacation/hotel sex, marriage proposal, marking (from the reader), foot play, drunk eren, back shots, overstim, slapping, choking..yktv

📝: sliding down a wall thinking about Eren and his influencer wife again like ughhh…this is just a little short drabble I’m totally not using an excuse to avoid finishing the full fic..never 🌚

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡

48 minutes ago

10,076 likes

location: Santorini, Greece

not exactly the reaction you were expecting to garner for a simple photo. A mere picture like the countless hundreds of others that could be found on your instagram feed..except it wasn’t!..and granted, it was nothing for you to crack one hundred thousand in a day but this?..was for a whole other reason. Reasons that had sent your entire following and the rest of the of the internet into a frenzy. Your texts practically imploding and notifications gone off the rails.

blogs like TheShadeRoom scrambling and breaking their fingers trying to post about the salacious snapshot posted from (reader’s social media name). What photo? Just a selfie taken from a ceiling mirror of the Katikies hotel room..

swaddled by crinkled white sheets and a man with long hair, tan skin, a tattoo on his right shoulder blade with various scratches on his back as he lie on top of you. Your right hand splayed across his skin and your ring finger glistening with a giant rock.

right now, you were the number one trending topic on Twitter..timeline ablaze with speculation of who was asleep in your bed. But in a not so distant past, he was wide awake, contributing to the mess you both lie in..

one hour earlier….

“F-fuck! Baby…you fucking me so good!”

the words spilling from between your drool stained lips, head tilted backwards courtesy of his fist clutched around the Brazilian wavy bundles cascading to your thin waist. The same hand held the diamonds of his buss down AP gleaming under the dimmed lighting, kept you reigned in as he tugged (y/n) back against his cock.

each inch filling you repeatedly and only getting deeper as those strokes intensified. Your thick, plump ass bouncing off the v-line of his chiseled six pack, moving fluidly like water as he pumped you full.. “I can’t help it..this pussy ‘s good, babygirl..and you creaming on my shit too, goddamnnn.”

that whiny wail coming from none other than world renowned artist and your fiancé, Eren Jaeger. Although that last part was to remain a secret until the two of you were ready to pop out and share that with the world. For now, you were celebrating your newfound engagement with passionate, rough and filthy lovemaking.

he had flew you out to the island on a last minute, spur of the moment getaway to celebrate the release of his long awaited EP and its success. Little did you know in the midst of a toast at an intimate candlelight dinner, would he fall to one knee, brandishing a small velvet box and ask you to be his wife. Without hesitation, you accepted and now, fast forward and you were being treated like his dirty little slut!

“..and imma get to fuck you like this for the rest of my life..oh shit..” so helplessly and needy rutting his hips into your bouncing backside. That tight grip of your cunt and milky cream, thanks to a thumb resting in your asshole, slathering him made it hard to keep his composure. Oh, he was so pathetic and fucking sexy as he hovered over your body.

but he always got like this with alcohol in his system. Shots of Dusse exchanged in the hot tub had led to the dark liquor coursing your veins and bringing out your nastiest sides.

from letting him dangle your head from the edge of the mattress and sloppily fuck your throat into oblivion as you drank his cum like water or sitting atop his face and gliding your pretty pussy across his lips until he sucked your sensitive clit to a squirting climax..going for rounds and rounds to give each other insurmountable pleasure. Beating your poor little walls sore with that big dick and he still was going! Now, you were hitting your second winds and it was as if he was trying to break the bed in the process.

“Aaah! Erennn..right there, you hitting my fucking spot!…gonna make m’ come all over this dick!” hearing your sweet voice cry out like that that done nothing more than to fuel his raging fire. Roping a hand underneath your thick thighs to massage your little bud;

coffin tips of the long acrylics brushing gently against your folds. Meanwhile, he had arched your back to its highest point and began pounding that dripping heat. Your mouth cradling a fluffy pillow in front of you as tried to muffle those moans but it was to no avail.

reaching across, Eren grasped that white linen and tossed it to the floor before folding himself completely over (y/n)’s back that he proceeded to mark with light kisses. Heavy full balls slapping against your slit and making your legs quiver in the process. “Then let me hear it, baby. Tell me how good it is..who that pussy belongs to.”

there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind from the way he had you clawing at the sheets and nutting all over his shaft but something about hearing it just inflated his ego. Tugging at your throat now, he’d pull you towards him to hiss in your ear as he spanked your ass. “I said let me hear that shit, mama..don’t get quiet on me now.”

without having to repeat himself twice, you’d mutter in a choked out whimper, glaring up at him with fluttering eyes and answer: “..mmm, you daddy! This pussy yours..” satisfied and quite full of himself, your future husband smirked and pulled you into a searing kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth where he drew out a trail of saliva when you parted.

in an almost lightning fast motion, he’d pull out slightly only to flip you over onto your back and fold your legs up; curling your thighs in his muscular, inked up arms. Both knees burrowed into the the memory foam, sinking down as he gathered his stance one more time. Gripping the shaft of that stiff cock, he’d tap the head against your messy sex..coaxing out more of that stickiness he craved. He couldn’t stop until you were pumped full of his nut either so with that, he’d push that thick length through your walls until you could feel it resting at the pit of your stomach.

emerald green eyes locked into your own as he stared down at your face, watching the reactions change by the second as he pinned you down and stuffed that tight pussy with every inch he could offer. Thrusting gently for only a second to slow his pacing. In that short minute, he’d glance down to spot your feet plastered to his chest…

a gold anklet with his initials and white painted toes planted to his skin. To quell your shaking, Eren slid them into his mouth and suckled as he continued to feed you deep strokes. Flicking his tongue over your instep and ankle as well.

“Oooh fuck…you know how much I love that shit, baby..”

There was no time for him to go slow..he couldn’t handle it right now..it felt too goddamn good. Suddenly, a slight bulge started forming at the base of your tummy near that dangling belly button ring…and you’d push him back almost immediately. Big mistake.

rather than holding those legs back, your throat became the next resting place of his large hands. His thumbs brushing the sides of your face at the same time.

“Move your hands, baby. Or I’m only gonna get deeper..don’t you dare try to keep this shit from me right now.” Sucking his teeth, trying to keep himself from coming right there but it was all but impossible when he’d begin to drum out small splashes of squirt from your little hole. It’d spasm and clamp every time he’d pull out and go back in. You couldn’t stop and he didn’t try to stop it either. Just slapping those nine inches against you to make it worse. “Squirt on that shit, baby. Don’t hold it from me..” giving you light taps to the cheek to bring you back to consciousness.

Eventually though, he couldn’t keep up either and those rhythmic strokes slowed to more sporadic ones as his larger frame fell cast over you. Digging your nails deeply into his muscular back, adding to the collection of scratches from earlier;

keeping him close while he hit his final stride. You’d squeeze at his base and it caused faint gasps to erupt in your ear. With his long brown locks gliding over you, (y/n) cupped that handsome face and pulled him into a searing kiss to help ease his mind. “..c-can’t hold it..’m gonna come, princess! I’m coming in this pussy—“ the last words he uttered before you’d feel his stroking come to an abrupt halt and along with a loud groan, his entire load was emptied into your womb.

“Mmmm…yes. Come in me, daddy..let it out.” Encouraging with sweet nothings and slow rubs to his back. He was pumping for nearly an entire minute until you felt it come to a stop and he was left an overwhelmed and overstimulated mess…completely spent and at your whim. He hadn’t been this vulnerable in a very long time and he couldn’t believe that this was future. Fucking this beautiful woman every night until the day he died. Exchanging kisses and breathy ‘I love you’ ‘s in a moment of passion, you’d fall into one another’s grasp and soon after, he’d fall off into slumber.

gently caressing him, you’d place a soft peck to his temple..happily thinking about the fact that he was yours forever now. And just to capture the occasion, you’d reach over for your phone, grabbing the device from the nightstand. Tilting it up, (y/n) let the camera take a couple stills of your half nude bodies. It was a night you’d cherish forever and true enough, the world wouldn’t know who was responsible for that happiness until you were full and well ready.

but a little teaser wouldn’t hurt.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

#eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader smut #eren x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren smut #eren x reader smut #eren x reader #black fem reader #black fanfic writer #smut fanfiction #black fanfiction #black reader smut #aot x black reader #black reader #fanfic #aot smut #eren aot #eren fanfiction #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan eren #aot au #musician au #anime #attack on titan smut #attack on titan

[hd-junglebook]

Its Always Been You

Part 4 / Word Count 5816

Masterlist

Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind.  Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.

"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.  

"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."

Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.

Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."

"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.

Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.

It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.

He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.

The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.

Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.

"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.

Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.

Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.

Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.

…

The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.

The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.

"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.

She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.

y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.

Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.

Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.

As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.

Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.

She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.

Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.

In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.

Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.

She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.

Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.

Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.

Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.

As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.

"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.

The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.

Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.

Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.

The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.

All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.

Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.

"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.

Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.

Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"

Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."

With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.

But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.

As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.

But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.

So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.

…

Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.

"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.

Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.

Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.

He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.

"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.

…

The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.

Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.

they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.

Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."

Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."

But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."

She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."

For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.

"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."

With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.

The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.

She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.

Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.

On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.

Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.

She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.

Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.

His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.

As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.

His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.

Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.

Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.

Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.

Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

…

Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.

The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.

She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.

There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.

Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.

"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."

He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.

Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."

Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."

Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.

Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.

But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.

"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.

Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.

"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?

Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.

For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.

Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."

Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.

As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.

Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.

…

Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.

She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.

Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.

Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.

In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.

With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."

Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"

Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."

Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."

…

Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.

Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.

"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.

With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."

Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.

"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."

Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.

"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."

Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.

"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."

Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."

Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"

Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."

Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"

Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.

Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”

Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."

"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?

…

Tag List <3

@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis

#angst #fluff #masterlist #new writers on tumblr #new fic #x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #jack hughes #jh86 #njd #nj devils #nhl #new jersey #masterpost #luke hughes #new jersey devils #timo meier #nico hischier #jesper bratt #nico hischer x reader #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes insta edit #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x sister!reader

[cupid-styles]

silk and rope 3

the final part of ddlg harry and little/submissive y/n!!!!

in which harry is a dummy, y/n gets a little too drunk, and thanksgiving is finally good for something.

word count: 8k

content warnings: daddy dom and little/submissive relationship, alcohol, a little bit of angst, SMUT!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, breeding kink, public sub drop, public play if you squint, dumbification, tiny bit of pet play.. if I missed something pls lmk lol). as stated in the first two parts, I tried to make this as accurate as possible but there are likely some things that aren't correct!! im just a girl and im sorry if something isn't portrayed right!!!!!!

thank you for reading and loving these two, while this is the last formal part of their story I will definitely be writing check-ins and blurbs for them in the future!!! enjoy :)

masterlist | talk to me

part one | part two

. . .

It doesn't take Y/N very long to realize Harry's acting weird.

Well, maybe not weird, but different. He's acting differently than he has been for the past two months, and it's giving her a bit of whiplash. She notices that it started the day after she slipped when he dropped her off at home, when he latched a collar around her neck. 

Her memory of that day is a little bit hazy; the events are more so glued together in blurry snapshots of pleasure and lust, but she does know that she had fallen into her little space while he was gone. He'd punished her for the whole butt plug incident, fucked her into oblivion, and then soaked in the tub with her before falling asleep next to her.

And really, it wasn't that different from their usual scenes. The dynamic was the same, as far as Y/N can remember, it may have just been a little bit more intense.

So why is Harry acting like this?

Instead of stopping by nearly every day to make sure she's eaten and rested, he'll just text her. If she hasn't eaten lunch or dinner yet, he'll order her food to her house instead of bringing her a homemade meal or stopping somewhere on the way. When he does come over, it seems like he's always in a hurry to leave — yesterday, he picked her up from a closing shift at the bakery and barely spoke to her in the car. He came inside, quickly cooked her a dinner, and left before she'd even finished eating, mumbling out some excuse about having to feed his sister's cat.

Worst of all, they haven't slept together in a week.

It's all overwhelming for Y/N, but this time, it's in the worst way possible. She feels incredibly down as the days go on, and she spirals and wonders what she did wrong to make him act this way. She can feel the breakup coming from a mile away, but she assumes that because it's Harry, he'll bake her a cake and buy her a kitten just because he doesn't want to be too mean about it.

She hates to admit it, but she's grown attached to Harry. And she really, really doesn't want to let him go.

It's what led her to asking Naomi to grab lunch on her day off. Naomi hasn't reached out too much lately so it's been awhile since they'd seen one another, but she's known Harry far longer than she has. 

(And yeah, Y/N feels kind of shitty about making plans with Naomi only to ask about Harry, but she has a nagging feeling that she's only kept her around because she feels bad she doesn't have friends outside of them.)

"I'm sorry, you and Harry are what?"

(She supposes she should have expected this type of response.)

"We're sleeping together," Y/N answers in a pathetic attempt to sound casual, keeping her eyes glued to the turkey sandwich on her plate, "But he's been acting kind of off lately, and I wasn't sure if you guys knew something I didn't."

"Well no one knew that," Naomi mutters, stabbing her fork into her salad and stuffing some lettuce into her mouth. "But to address your concerns, no, I don't know anything. Harry's notoriously private about his love life."

She clears her throat and nods. "I think he's gonna end things soon."

"Hmm, yeah," Naomi hums through a mouthful of food, "I don't think he does the whole friends with benefits thing. Lea tried once and he rejected her, it was kind of a mess. She couldn't stand to be in a room with him for like, two months."

"We're not sleeping with other people," Y/N quickly adds. "It's sort of an exclusive arrangement."

Still, Naomi shrugs her shoulders, and it doesn't soothe any of Y/N's worries.

"He may have told you that, but I honestly doubt it, babe. I'm sorry he broke your heart. He can be kind of an asshole in that way."

If anything, Y/N feels even worse now. The gears in her brain are turning too fast and she's starting to feel nauseous, putting the puzzle pieces together and envisioning what her life will be like without Harry after she's gotten so used to him taking care of her.

"Anyway, Bria is having a party this weekend," Naomi says, breaking her out of his spiraling thoughts, "You should come. It'll get your mind off things and you can find someone new to fuck."

She winces at her crude terminology, not because she's offended by it but because she thinks what she and Harry are doing is more than just fucking.

Aren't they?

Forcing down a sip of her Diet Coke, Y/N nods. "Yeah, I'll be there."

. . .

From: H

Can I come over tonight?

Y/N bites her lip as she reads Harry's text for the fourth time. Since getting home from lunch with Naomi, she's been stewing in a series of emotions: First, sadness, followed by frustration and anger, then sadness again, then acceptance. She's managed to occupy herself with some re-runs of Jeopardy, even if it reminds her of him.

She doesn't know what the right thing to do is. What if he wants to come over because he's ready to end things? She supposes she's just putting off the inevitable, but she's been broken up with enough times and she knows how much more painful this one will be. She's not prepared for that, even if she wants to be.

Sighing, she finally makes a decision, tapping her thumbs quickly against the screen.

Y/N: hey sorry i can't do tonight. think im coming down w something, i don't feel that well

H: Do you need anything? I can bring soup and medicine, whatever you need.

Y/N: no im ok, thank you tho

H: Let me know if you think of anything.

H: Maybe later this week if you're feeling better?

Y/N: yea maybe

Tears are already clouding her vision as she locks her phone and tosses it across her couch. Desperately, she wonders why the guy she's fallen for just can't like her back.

. . .

Harry knows he's fucking up.

He wants to smack himself across the face and tell himself to pull it together, but he can't. Every single cell and bone in his body is begging him to go over to Y/N's house and make it all better, and instead, he just sits on the couch, replaying those words over in his brain. Her swollen parted lips and eyes fluttered closed, the way it sounded so effortless falling from her mouth. I love you. 

He wanted to say it back. But that wasn't part of the arrangement.

She wanted someone to dominate her, to take care of her. Who would be if he took advantage of something she said after nearly two hours of play, when she'd been in her little space all day? It wasn't something he felt morally right about, but he knows he wasn't being any better. He couldn't hold himself to high standards when he was pushing her away.

It's why he's so down and out on Saturday night. Normally, he'd be snuggled up with Y/N, watching some movie or TV show, usually after or before an intense scene. Sometimes it served as a precursor to foreplay with the way he'd stroke over her thighs and play with her hair, watching as she became increasingly restless. Other times, it's what they did to unwind, a form of aftercare for both parties.

But tonight, he's not doing that. He's at home alone, confused, because Bria just texted him that she's having a party tonight and everyone's there — including Y/N.

He doesn't like that she singles her out like that. He knows that some of the girls in the group don't particularly like her because she's quiet and shy and rather reserved about her personal life. (He understands why she's that way now.) He doesn't even think Naomi is a good friend to her, but he would never go out of his way to tell her that — ultimately, she's capable of making her own decisions. However, she'd sent him some excuse about not being able to hang out a few days ago, claiming that she was sick and yet, tonight she was at a party?

Harry couldn't live with that.

So he fires off a text to Bria, telling her that he'll be there soon, dressing quickly and throwing himself together. When he's driving over to Bria's place, he makes a mental promise to himself, pledging that as long as Y/N doesn't hate him, he won't return home without her.

. . . 

Y/N is drunk, and she hates being drunk.

The last time she consumed a fraction of this amount of alcohol was the night she spilled her guts to Harry. Tonight, she's downed every shot that's been passed her way. She's not sure what she's looking to achieve — she doesn't want to go home with anyway and the only person she really wants to be with is Harry — and it makes her sad. So, so helplessly sad.

Despite being deep underwater, Y/N is cognizant enough to know that no one at this party really cares for her wellbeing. They were eager to get her drunk, but once she started swaying on her feet with hazy eyes, they stopped caring. Games of beer pong and flip cup were ongoing as she sat in the kitchen, propped up on the counter with her head against the cabinets. 

She feels so stupid, it makes her want to cry.

. . .

Harry attempts to play it cool when he arrives at Bria's house.

Everyone welcomes him, excited that he made it, but they have no idea that his presence has nothing to do with wanting to party. He's here for the girl who begs him to snap a collar around her neck and push a plug into her ass. The girl he happens to be very in love with.

Naomi bats her eyelashes at him and hands him a glass of wine; an attempt to schmooze him when she tells him she picked out this bottle just for him. He smiles politely. 

"Have you seen Y/N? Bria mentioned she was here."

Naomi's eyebrows raise, a defensive look crossing onto her face. "Why are you looking for her?"

"We just need to talk about something," he replies dismissively, uninterested in revealing any details to her, "So, is she here? Or did she leave already?"

She crosses her arms over her chest. "She got pretty fucked up when she got here. She's kind of a mess, y'know? I don't even know if she's here or not."

"What do you mean?" Harry asks, concern and worry bubbling in his stomach, "She doesn't like to drink."

"Well, she sure liked all the shots everyone was giving her."

He closes his hands into tight fists, stunned at how careless these people could be. He couldn't believe he considered them friends at a certain point.

"Where did you see her last?" he eventually questions, pushing past the anger growing in his chest.

Naomi thinks for a moment. "I think Ren may have passed her in the kitchen. Not sure, though."

She's apparently finished with this conversation, clearly annoyed that she didn't get what she wants (Harry knows she's been trying to recreate that one night they made out years ago, but he's never been especially interested). He huffs and pushes past everyone else standing around in the living room, ignoring anyone who tries to start a conversation. When he walks into the kitchen, his eyes immediately find her defeated posture, her shoulders slumped over with eyes half-shut. 

"Y/N," he says, rushing over to her. He's not sure if she's even conscious, so he gently pats at her cheek. "Baby, are you alright?"

Her eyes flutter open, a look of confusion immediately taking over. "Harry?"

"Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?"

"Nothing," she mumbles through red-stained lips, "Why're you here?"

She's slurring her words and he swallows harshly, taking in her rough composure. She looks so tired and it breaks his heart to think that he could have caused this.

"Heard you were here and I wanted to make sure you were okay." he murmurs out, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, "Are you having a fun time?"

He already knows the answer when she shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "No. Hate being drunk."

"I know, baby," Harry coos, "Would you be okay with me taking you home? Get you all cozy in your bed?"

If she's angry with him, her level of drunkenness has made her forget about those feelings because she nods, making grabby hands at him. He chuckles and helps her down from the countertop, immediately wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.

"My car's just parked outside. Do you think you can make it there?"

"Mhm."

With a gentle smile on his lips, he tugs her out of the kitchen and guides her to the front door. He can feel eyes on them and he assumes Naomi is likely leading the pack, but he doesn't care. Frankly, he's fine if this is the last time he sees most of these people — he doesn't think he wants to continue friendships with anyone who'd want to hurt Y/N.

She's quiet as he helps her into the car, buckling her seatbelt for her and closing the passenger side door once she's safe. He's quick to do the same for himself, churning the ignition and flicking the heat on to shield her from the chilly autumn air.

"Do you feel sick at all?" Harry asks as he pulls out of his parking spot. She shakes her head. "Okay, lemme know if that changes, lovebug."

They don't exchange any more words on the way to Y/N's place. Once he's parked, he turns to look over, only to find her slumped in her seat with closed eyes, steady puffs of air coming from her nose. His heart twitches — he wishes they were coming home from a date or something romantic, but he's reminded quite quickly of her drunken state.

He leaves her in the car for a moment to use his spare key to unlock her front door. When he returns, he gently scoops her body up and out of the car. Her eyes flicker open and he hushes her, kicking the door closed. 

"Can walk," she mutters out, and he nods, letting her down once they're safely in her home.

"I didn't wanna wake you up, that's all."

Y/N shrugs and kicks her shoes off, though she loses her balance and sways, Harry quickly coming to her side to steady her by the elbow.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

He looks down at the doe-eyed girl in front of him, sniffling as the words float from her lips. His stomach flutters with anxiety as he watches her eyes get watery, immediately using his thumb to wipe away the moisture from spilling over.

"Why would you ask that?" he murmurs, placing a hand to her hip.

"You don't like me," Y/N answers matter-of-factly. "And you've been avoiding me."

He sighs. He knows this isn't the right time to talk things through, especially because she's only saying these things given her swimming mindset. He hates that her mind even floated to such places, but if he's being honest, he isn't surprised — he thinks he would assume similarly if their roles were swapped.

"Can we talk about this in the morning?" Harry asks softly.

She shrugs her shoulders, letting her gaze fall to her feet. "You can just do it now. I don't wanna remember anything you have to say if that's the case."

"Y/N, stop it," he says with a shake of his head, attempting to guide her up the stairs. He's slightly impressed that despite her wobbly legs, she stays put. "I'm not ending things."

"Why wouldn't you?" she fires back, looking back up at him with a defiant look in her eyes, "You promised me you'd take care of me and— and for the past week or so, you've done anything but. You've just stressed me out and made me feel bad."

Harry swallows as guilt begins to crawl its way back up his spine. He knows she's right. She has every right to be upset. 

"I know," he mumbles, nodding his head, "I know. I haven't been a good dominant. I'm sorry."

"That's a shit excuse. I've heard that so many times before from guys who didn't treat me right from the start. You're different, Harry."

"Y/N..." he's getting frustrated now, disgruntled by how stubborn she apparently gets when she's drunk, "You're right about everything, but this isn't the time to talk this through. I want to do it when you're sober."

She rolls her eyes and if things were normal, Harry knows he would've grabbed her by the hips and leaned her over the steps to spank her. Instead, he lets out a breath and nudges her in the direction of her bedroom. 

"C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Y/N's protests cease after that and Harry's secretly grateful for it. She's sobered up enough to take her makeup off and change into her pajamas as he fetches her a glass of water and some Advil to take. He places them on her nightstand as she crawls into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

"Your apartment's still freezing," he murmurs, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "I'll call a repair guy tomorrow."

"Are you staying then?" she asks softly, letting her eyes close the second she smushes her cheek into the pillow.

"I will if you'd like me to."

"Okay," she mumbles, "I hope you don't break up with me tomorrow."

He lets out what feels like the thousandth sigh that evening. "Stop saying that. I'm not going to."

Y/N simply shrugs.

. . .

The next morning, Y/N wakes up with a throbbing headache. Before she even opens her eyes, she can feel embarrassment warming every cell of her body, but she can't place a finger on why. She knows something happened last night but things get a little... blurry at a certain point; her last solid memory taking shots with Naomi and Lea. From there, she has a small inkling of what happened, mainly just recalling her sitting in the kitchen by herself when she started feeling woozy and tired.

When she finally blinks her mascara-crusted eyes open (she thought she took her makeup off last night, but maybe she did a shit job of it), she nearly jumps when she realizes there's someone laying next to her.

That someone being Harry. 

He has his reading glasses on and he's scrolling on his phone. Through squinted eyes, she reads the words heat repair guy best ratings in his Google search. When he realizes that she's awake, he locks his phone and clears his throat.

"Hey," he says, licking his lips, "How are you feeling?"

"Confused," she croaks out, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, only to be met with a pounding ache in her temples. 

"Here, be careful," he mumbles, leaning over to his side to grab something from the nightstand. He hands here two pieces of toast and two Advil. "You should eat this before you take anything. You were pretty wasted last night, I figured your hangover would be rough."

She hums in appreciation and takes a bite of the toast, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "What are you doing here?"

He's not surprised that the details are hazy for her, so he flips onto his side to face her. "Bria told me about the party and mentioned you were there. I wanted to see you so I went, but you were, um, drunk and... by yourself. I took you home, that's all."

"Hm," Y/N nods, "Yeah, I remember getting drunk with everyone. I don't remember you being there except for us arguing here."

"We didn't really argue. You were just being... stubborn."

"About what?"

Harry sighs. "You wanted to talk about the state of our relationship and were convinced I was going to break up with you."

A beat. And then, "Oh."

"That was never my plan, by the way," he replies, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers, "I was never going to end things."

She shrugs her shoulders and places her empty plate on the floor, tossing back the Advil. 

"I know I haven't been the best to you lately. I've been having a hard time trying to figure out how to approach things."

"Approach what?" she bites, laying back down. "I— all I know is that one day things were fine, and the next they weren't. You weren't being the same and I didn't know what I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he shakes his head, "Just... you said something. When you were in your little space."

"I say a lot of things when I'm in my little space."

"Yeah, but this was... like, different."

"How, different?"

"More serious, I guess."

"Harry," she huffs, fisting the comforter in her hands, "I can't guess something I said when I wasn't being myself."

"You told you love me."

Y/N's head whips to the side and she immediately winces, shutting her eyes. He cringes and reaches out to touch her temples, gently applying a bit of pressure and rubbing them. It's silent for a moment as he massages her head.

"I'm sorry," she eventually mumbles, "You were probably freaked out. I'm sure I didn't mean to say it."

"Don't be sorry. I would never hold your emotions against you."

Still, she wants to hide her face in the blankets. She's embarrassed, that much is obvious. She doesn't even know if she actually loves Harry; a lot things come out when she's in her little space, some of which she means and some of which she doesn't. She supposes it's fair that he seems so freaked over it.

"I wish you told me sooner. I could've... explained myself. Maybe."

"Explained yourself?"

Y/N shrugs and lays back against the pillows. Harry follows her lead, tilting his neck so he can look at her.

"I can't say for certain that I love you or not, I've never been in love," she explains quietly, feeling her cheeks warm at the unexpected vulnerability spilling out of her, "Don't you think you could say things when you're dominating me that you don't necessarily mean? You degrade me sometimes and I know those things aren't true."

Harry thinks for a moment, pinching his lip between his fingers. "I guess, yeah."

"I would tell if you if I knew for sure, Harry. But I don't."

He nods and rolls onto his back. He doesn't know why but he feels... sad? Let down, maybe? He'd been under the impression that she loved him and, well... maybe he was okay with that.

"I'm sorry." she repeats softly. He shakes his head and reaches out for her hand, grasping it gently and giving it a small squeeze.

"Don't be. It was stupid. I overreacted."

"Thank you for rescuing me last night," Y/N murmurs, squeezing his hand back.

He pushes down the feelings of disappointment and forces a small smile on his lips. 

"Anytime."

. . .

Harry tries to go back to normal after that. 

He stops being so avoidant, which makes a big difference. He and Y/N are back to their near-daily hangouts, and it's easy to fall back into the routine they established before any of this happened. They're even having sex again, with Y/N readily falling into her little space every time he ties her to the bed, overstimulates her until she's crying, and fucks her open with his cock until he comes deep inside her. They never use condoms anymore, either, and the added layer of intimacy only contributes to what Harry realize shortly after that morning in Y/N's bed: he's in love with her.

He guesses he's known it for awhile, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. But when she explained why she said it, he felt so bummed that it only made sense. He'd wanted her to love him.

But Y/N is Y/N, shy and oblivious and rarely the first to bring up her feelings, so he leaves it at that. He can't think of a worse fate than them actually ending things for good this time, so he keeps his emotions to himself, locked up tight for no one to ever know.

This is a good method, he decides.

Until they're in Y/N's favorite bookshop, perusing through the section titled "BookTok" (he doesn't know what that means, but she clearly does since she has a stack of four books in her hand) and he sees it. 

The familiar moony-eyed gaze, batted eyelashes, spit swollen lips. Tugging at his hand, latching onto his arm every second she can, when the word falls from her lips.

"Daddy."

He looks down with wide eyes. She never calls him that when they're in public, but now she's blinking owlishly, nibbling on the fingernails of the hand that isn't attached to Harry's arm.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asks quietly, brushing a piece of her hair out of her eyes.

"Mhm," she nods, grinning up at him, "Feeling little. 's that okay?" 

He smiles gently, loving this side of her, but concerned that it's happening when they're out and about. He's never experienced a sudden sub drop before, but he knows that he doesn't want to make her feel unwanted, as if she's doing anything wrong.

"Of course, bunny," he murmurs. "Can daddy take you home, then?"

"Yes, please. Startin' to ache."

With raised eyebrows, he nods quickly, lightly tugging her head in the direction of the register. He buys her books for her, grateful that she's decided to occupy herself with the sticker display before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to his car. He buckles her in to make sure she's safe, her books piled neatly in her lap, and gets in on the other side.

She's quiet as she flips through one of her new novels while Harry periodically glances over at her to make sure she's doing alright. It's only when she starts squirming in her seat that he puts a hand over her thigh, squeezing gently. 

"We'll be home soon, baby. Just hang in there for me."

"Hurts," she pouts, and Harry's heart jumps, "Please— can I— will you?"

He swallows, quickly looking over as she wiggles around. In any other situation, he'd say no — they have a pretty firm no-touching-herself rule when he's not there, but he's never seen her drop into her little space so suddenly before. Hesitantly, he nods, stopped at a red light as he reaches up to pluck at the waistband of her leggings. 

"Does my baby just need to cum?" he asks as she quickly shimmies the material down. 

"Need you to touch me." she whines, hooking her thumbs under her panties and sliding them to the middle of her thighs.

"Okay, okay," he murmurs. The light turns green and he presses on the gas, moving his hand up to hover over her core. Even with the distance between them, he can see how much she's glistening. "Did you make a mess for daddy? Just walking around, having a nice day, and your little pussy got all wet for me?"

"Yes," she gasps, spreading her pussy lips with his fingers.

He begins to thumb at her clit, pressing small circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. She's already whimpering in her seat, eyes falling closed as she wraps her own hand around his wrist, pulling him closer. 

"F-feels so good," Y/N mewls, grinding her hips down in time with his hand.

"Such a good girl for daddy," he tries to ignore the straining in his pants as her arousal readily coats his fingers just from a few swirls around her clit. "Cum for me whenever you're ready, bunny. Show me how good you are."

Thankfully, he's turning onto his street as the knot in her core unravels, breathy whimpers and broken calls of his honorific a clear indicator that she's reached her peak. He groans as he feels her pussy contracting, back arched against the leather of the seat. 

"Fuck," he mutters, pulling into the driveway, "You're so fucking beautiful." 

She barely has a second to breathe before he throws the car in park and unbuckles her seatbelt. He grabs her face between his hands and smushes their lips together, a surprised squeak sounding from her mouth. 

"D-daddy," she gasps, her lips curling into a smile as he squeezes her hip. 

"My good girl, yeah?" he grins, breaking apart to press their foreheads to one another. "You make daddy so happy."

Y/N giggles. She's still in her floaty headspace but with one orgasm in, it's less desperate and more bubbly. A reminder of how much she adores Harry, even with the rose-tinted glasses of her little space. 

"Need more," Y/N breathes, leaning back in to peck his lips, "Please? Want your cock, want you to— to cum deep inside me."

"I know, bunny." he coos, ignoring the way his length twitches in his pants at her needy tone. He reaches up to press a kiss to her forehead. "C'mon, let's go inside. Wanna take you properly."

As soon as she nods, Harry clamors out of the car and winds around to the other side to open the door for her. With her pile of books in her hand and her flushed cheeks, evident of a recent orgasm, he intertwines their fingers together and helps her to the front door, quickly unlocking it. 

Harry's no psychiatrist or expert on the manner, but one of the most interesting parts of Y/N being in her little space is that she doesn't even necessarily realize what she's doing. They've spoken about it before and she's revealed that there have times where she's been so deep under, she doesn't have all of her memories. It's a scary thought, but in a stroke of complete and utter honesty, she's explained to him that she trusts him implicitly — to take care of her when her brain is fuzzy, to never take advantage of her or push her beyond her limits. 

Truthfully, Harry should've known then that he was in love with her.

And when she waltzes into his apartment, placing her books on the entryway table like she lives here, he's immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, until her back is pressed up against his chest. She giggles out his honorific and it makes him smile into her hair — god, he loves her so much it might make him sick — before he mumbles out instructions to go upstairs to get undressed for him.

As always, she does as she's asked, ever keen on pleasing him. He gives her a moment as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath and running his hand over his face. He's never felt so gone over a girl before, and he's managed to keep it together with Y/N this far — but seeing the way she slipped today and knowing it's just another way of showcasing how deeply she trusts their relationship... it's almost too much.

When he does go upstairs, he's instantly reminded of how uncomfortably hard he is. His eyes wander over her naked body, sprawled out across his bed, her feet flat on the bedding with her legs arched at the knee. She's being good — there have been times where he's found her already toying with her clit or sinking the tip of her finger in, but her hands are at her sides today.

"Good girl," Harry murmurs out as he undoes his belt, the leather falling to the floor. "Tell daddy what you want."

She hums, likely unused to getting a say in the foreplay of their scenes. He realizes that she may not know how to answer, so he attempts to help her along.

"Do you wanna be plugged in your bum? Tied up? Edged?" he asks, clad only in his briefs as he places a knee on the bed and wraps a hand around her ankle. "Tell me why daddy's girl needs."

"Want a plug, please," she says softly, allowing him to stretch her legs out, "Just... just wanna be filled."

"Filled, hm?" he teases lightly, reaching under the bed to rifle through the small box of sex toys. She had a bit of a collection of plugs at home, so she'd brought over a few to keep at his place a month or so back (that had been an interesting day, when he thought she had books or extra clothes in her tote bag only to be met with toys). He pulls out the smallest one since, if he's being honest, the need to be inside her is overwhelming, and he doesn't know how long he can play with her ass before he loses his mind.

"Flip onto your tummy, angel girl." he instructs as he pulls his tee and sweatshirt off. She silently does as she's told, pressing her cheek into one of Harry's pillows. She's instantly flooded with scents of his shampoo and cologne, woody and musky and intensely comforting, and it makes her squeeze her thighs together. 

Everything about him makes her warm and gooey inside, as if she's coming to the one place — or person — that always feels like home, no matter how awful of a day she's had. Akin to struggling through a snowstorm, the chill pinging through her body and down to her bones; when she's with Harry, it's like being served her favorite bowl of warm soup and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket fresh out of the dryer.

Harry is her home.

She's floating through this revelation when he pushes her ass cheeks apart, a soft gasp sounding from her mouth when he runs a lubed fingertip around the ring of muscles. 

"Such a pretty hole," he murmurs, and she whimpers when she feels him spit, the saliva landing on her asshole, "Love filling you up, you know that? Every last one of these gorgeous holes."

She moans when he fits his finger inside, pushing it all the way to the knuckle. He knows she's experienced with anal so he doesn't feel like he has to be as precious about the process, knowing that she adores the sensation.

"Too bad daddy'll never share you with anyone though. No one will ever get to see how your ass and pussy squeeze around me... that's just for daddy, isn't it?"

Y/N muffles through a moan and he tuts as he pushes a second finger in. 

"That's not an answer, bunny. Try again."

She shutters out a sigh and slowly blinks her eyes open, trying her to best not to be overwhelmed by him stretching her out. 

"'s just for you, daddy."

"What is, angel?"

"My holes, daddy."

"Good girl," he mumbles, withdrawing his fingers. His cock twitches as he watches her ass gape ever so slightly, the loss of anything inside instantly making her feel empty. It's quickly over, though, because he's rubbing the tip of the lubed plug over her hole. "Deep breath, sweetheart, you know the drill."

Despite doing this numerous times, the stretch never quite gets old for Y/N. (Admittedly, Harry never tires of the view, either.) When her muscles swallow up the thick of the plug, revealing the pink bejeweled end, he groans, tapping it lightly.

"Does that feel better, baby?" 

"Uh-huh."

"What do you say?"

"Thank you, daddy."

He smirks and gently pats the backs of her thighs, a wordless gesture to flip back over. She does, her eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of the plug slightly wiggling inside of her, pressing deep against her walls. 

She leans up onto her elbows, watching as he palms his length through the material of his underwear. With wide eyes, she looks up at him, trying to ignore the way she can feel her arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs, making a sticky mess.

"What, bunny? Why are you looking at me like you're expecting something?"

Y/N pouts and Harry has to try not to smirk down at her. 

"Use your words, angel."

Her pout deepens. They both know what she wants — her pussy is all but screaming for attention — and it's embarrassing to have to admit it. She adores the way he knows her body, but he's clearly feeling just a little meaner tonight by making her verbalize all of the filthy things running through her brain. 

"Want you here, daddy." She mumbles cutely, bucking her hips up slightly. He hums and uses a finger to stroke over her mound, down to her crease where her juices are steadily collecting. 

"Here?" He asks mockingly, teasing her folds with light movements. It's not enough for her to receive any pleasure, instead just causing her to wiggle around as she attempts to guide him to her pulsating hole. 

"Inside," she all but huffs, and he chuckles, removing his touch altogether. 

"Ah, where'd my good girl go?" He smirks, "You know that's not how you ask. Plus, if you keep squirming around like this, I'll have to tie you up."

Her stomach clenches at the thought; he's always more keen on edging her until she's crying when he ties her up. She's not in the mood for that tonight — she already feels like he's been edging her by refusing to give into her — so she puffs out a breath, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. 

"Want you in my pussy, please." 

"That's all you had to say, baby," Harry murmurs. She wants to roll her eyes but she knows she'll only get spanked for it, so she nods, reveling in the sensation of his hands back on her as he separates her lips, a cooing sound forming from the back of his throat at his eyes gaze over her swollen pussy. "You have a filthy little pussy. Did you know that, bunny?"

She shakes her head. 

"Don't lie to daddy," he utters, delivering a swift slap to her clit. It makes her gasp, the quick sting that's gone just as quickly as it came. "You wouldn't be begging for my cock all the time if you didn't."

Some form of an "uh huh" leaves her mouth and he chuckles. Slowly, his fingertip trails down her crease and to the place she needs him most, circling her hole once before pushing in. Her back arches and her eyes squeeze closed, immediately grateful to finally receive something. 

"You'll take anything I give you, won't you?" Harry continues as he pumps his finger, "My fingers, my tongue. My cock, of course. Even my cum — made you daddy's little cumslut, didn't I?"

She moans loudly and nods her head, her hair forming messy knots at the friction. 

"L-love it," she stutters, the knot in her stomach winding up tightly, "Love feeling your cum inside me, daddy."

"I know you do." He purrs, pushing another finger in. "Bet you'd let me get you all swollen with it if I wanted. Carrying my baby around like the little slut you are."

They're both too wound up to even realize what he's said. They've never breached this territory before, never even considered if a future was in the cards for them. But Y/N's already whining over it before Harry has a chance to second guess himself, her pussy squeezing his fingers rapidly; a telltale sign that her peak is but a few moments away. 

"I would, I would," she chants as she pants loudly, "Fuck— fuck, I'm yours, daddy, I—"

Her words are cut off by the throaty moan that parts her lips, the rope in her core finally splitting. It's so much, so good, her muscles contracting around his fingers as he works her through it, never ceasing his praises. 

"There's my girl."

"So fucking beautiful for me."

"God, I got so lucky with you. Fuck."

Her pussy is drooling over his hand now, leaking down to the plug still firmly inside of her. He bites his lip at the visual, her hole still throbbing in haphazard pulses as he frees his cock from the confides of his underwear, desperate to feel her. 

With fluttering eyes, she blinks her eyelashes open as she watches him, her mind filled with fuzzy static. She doesn't even realize she's leaked spit out of her mouth until he smiles gently, using soft fingertips to wipe it away.

"Already cock dumb, sweetheart?"

She nods.

"Can you take more, or are you done? Squeeze my hand if you want to be done."

She doesn't — although her mind is bleary and struggling to string together coherent thoughts, the idea of not having Harry inside of her seems terrible. She can tell he looks concerned (his eyebrows are knit together ever so slightly as he strokes up and down her arm, waiting for her to say her safe word), but she has no plans of breaking now.

"More," her mouth finally forms around the syllables, pushing it out hoarsely, "Can do it."

"Yeah?" he asks through raised eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

Again, she nods. Hesitantly, he shimmies up the length of her body, knees pressed into the comforter with his length hot and heavy in his palm. 

"You know what to do if it's too much. Safe word or squeeze my hand three times."

And then finally — finally — after what seems like hours of teasing and edging (and, quite frankly, it could have been hours; Y/N's too foggy to know), he pushes his cock inside of her and everything feels right. So right, so good, so perfect. 

Her jaw drops open and she leans her head against the crook of his neck, his own groans filling the otherwise quiet room. They're not typically this silent, especially when he first enters her — she's usually whimpering and he's teasing her, calling her a dog in heat or something along those lines — but it's just so... fulfilling, and satisfying, that she can't even put it into words.

When he builds up to a steady pace, mewls begin to break free from her throat, her eyes rolling back as she lays down against the pillows again. He leans back onto his heels and pushes her thighs up against her knees, looping his arms around them to keep her there. He's far deeper that way — they can both feel it — and he gets the prettiest views of her fucked out face and plugged up ass. 

"Shit — you're so good, my fuckin' girl."

Too hazy to answer, she just nods, echoing his words. "Your girl."

"Yeah? Gonna take my cum, sweetheart? Want me to fuck it deep into you?"

"P-please," she babbles, reaching down between their bodies to play with her clit, "Want— want your babies, wanna be yours, please daddy."

"My sweet girl wants to be a mama?" he's clenching down his teeth so harshly he's nervous he may break something, "I'll give you anything, baby, pump my cum so deep in your womb you won't even remember your fuckin' name."

Chants of please, please, please are all that can leave her at this point, deft fingers rolling over her clit as she feels her third orgasm rapidly approaching. He knows it, too, and he groans at the sensation of her pussy clenching over his cock.

"Cum for me one more time and I'll do it. My fertile little pussy, hm? Pretty fucking girl gonna be the prettiest mama."

That's all it takes for her to explode around him, this time gushing out clear bursts of liquid. He groans and curses, the sight instantly sending him to his own edge. In the back of his mind, he knows that squirting all over his torso and legs will put her to the final brink of exhaustion, and he's internally grateful that he can let go and make good on his promise to her.

So, he does. He finishes deep inside her, pushing his hips all the way up against her bum as his balls throb and empty, fucking his cum as far as it'll go. They're a mess of liquids and sweat and they both know it's gross, but there's not a single place either one of them would rather be.

When her eyelashes flitter open and she looks up at him, an exhausted smile forming on her lips, he swears he's never seen anything more beautiful.

. . .

"What are your plans for the holidays?"

Harry raises his eyebrows as he spoons some more miso soup into his mouth. It's a gloomy Saturday evening, with the temperatures finally dropping down to appropriate autumnal climates. Y/N came over this morning to pick up a book he recommended for her, but — as if either one hadn't expected it — ended up staying all day, basking in the cozy glory of Harry's apartment. They snuggled up on the couch, watching Jeopardy reruns, taking turns napping and retrieving snacks and drinks for the other.

"Well," he clears his throat, "I'm not American so I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving. And Christmas is a bit far away, so I'm not sure. Why?"

She shrugs, pulling her knees up to her chest. "My sister was asking if I'm coming home for Thanksgiving."

"Ah. Are you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Why? Isn't it coming up?"

She nods her head, occupying her fingers with a loose thread at the end of Harry's tee shirt that she had thrown over her body.

"Yeah. I just... I don't know if it's stupid, but I was curious about what you were doing. Before I made any decisions."

Harry's heart thumps in his chest, his entire body warming at her taking his plans into consideration. 

"That's sweet of you, baby. Hadn't really thought about it, though."

Again, she nods, and he thinks that may be the end of the conversation. He doesn't want to impose, especially since he thinks he's been doing particularly well with the whole not-confessing-his-love thing, so he unmutes the TV and directs his attention back to the screen.

"Wait!" she blurts out, and he mutes it again through furrowed brows, "What if you... like, came with me?"

"For Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah," she bites her lip, nerves apparent on her face, "It's no pressure, my sister's hosting just 'cos she just bought a house with her girlfriend and they have two dogs that are really cute, and my dad might be there but he's not one of those weird hover-y dads that care about who I bring around, not that he wouldn't care but it would be weird to have to explain how we met, and my mom is probably spending it with my step-dad so it'll be pretty low-key, and—"

"Y/N." Harry cuts her off with a smirk before setting his bowl of soup down on the table. "Breathe. You're gonna pass out, I've never heard you talk so fast."

She takes a deep breath and he smiles, murmuring out a good as he turns to face her.

"I would love to come and celebrate Thanksgiving with you. That sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me."

"Really?"

"Of course," he replies easily. "I love any time we spend together."

Her cheeks warm and she nods, as if she's convincing herself he's being truthful. 

"Um... so, like, how should I introduce you?" she asks, and there are so many butterflies swarming Harry's stomach that he doesn't know if he can get any words out. 

"Well... how would you like to introduce me?"

She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her lips into her mouth. "I mean, I don't know... maybe, like..."

And then she mumbles something, but it's so low that he can't hear a thing.

"I didn't hear that."

She repeats it, and Harry lets out a laugh when he still doesn't understand her.

"Baby, speak up. I can't hear you."

"WhatifIsaidyouweremyboyfriend."

"What?"

"WhatifIsaidyouweremyBOYFRIEND."

"Y/N, seriously, I don't know—"

"Boyfriend!" she exclaims, "What if I said you were my boyfriend?"

He can't fight the grin that breaks out onto his face, especially given her wide, exasperated eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of teasing her.

"Is this you asking me to be your boyfriend?" 

She groans and goes to rise from the couch, only to be quickly brought back down by Harry. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him as his chest vibrates with laughter.

"Ask me properly."

She huffs, twisting in his lap. Swallowing nervously, she looks down, and he intertwines their fingers together. 

"Harry... would you want to be my boyfriend?" she peers up at him through her eyelashes and he smiles that big, dimpled smile that she loves, and realizes she has nothing to worry about.

"I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend." 

He decides to save the I-love-you confession for another day, because he wants nothing more than to do things properly with her.

But when a matching toothy grin appears on her face, he mentally amends the one thing he got wrong about her: This is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

#writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles x oc #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic recs #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #my brain is so sleepy:)

[trashmouth-richie]

master list

eddie! x fem reader

summary: 3 years later; happy birthday

I can’t believe this is almost the end. It is so bittersweet to be uploading this and thanking you all for the continued support on this story. I hope you will miss eddie + tooty just as much as I will. The epilogue is next and then a fun little surprise for you all.

trigger warnings: fluff, sweet sweet fluff 💕

Crinkly paper streamers twist down into even boughs along the cedar planked walls.  A homemade banner crafted with the best paint Melvald’s could offer, hung over the sliding patio door, freckled with glitter and deep hues of scarlet and onyx. 

  Carefully stenciled uniform letters spelling out a greeting for the birthday boy, line the banner— perfectly positioned.  

  Looking at it now, you can nearly feel the backache it caused from the leaned over pretzel position you were tangled in while attempting to make it look store bought. Instead it took hours and a ruined shirt to paint each letter with precision on your living room floor. 

  Red plastic cups were stacked in a corner on top of a cheap plastic table cloth adorned with paper plates and plastic utensils. A smaller card table from the Wheeler-Byer’s held a two tiered homemade cake, dolloped with sticky whipped strawberry frosting. His favorite.

  Polaroids of the birthday boy were placed, in no particular pattern, with sticky tack to the wall above the card table holding the presents. 

  Various shots from the past year capturing adventures big and small. He had wanted that.

  Wanted to remember every detail— an important step to moving forward, leaving the past in the dust and enjoying the second chance at life you had both been given. 

  The pictures were mostly candids, snapped in the blur of a moment, memories to be cherished for a lifetime to come. And although some of them were cheesy, or horribly cliche; they held delicate moments of the past two years of you and Eddie, together at last.

  You suck the sticky remnants of frosting from your thumb as you carefully arrange a framed picture of his graduation day just so on the table, stepping back and admiring the hard work and weeks worth of planning you had done.  

  Your fingers dance along the sharp edges of the selected photos you had given Jonathan to print for you. 8”x10”, 5”x7”, colored, sepia tone, and even black and white you had wanted to give it more of a collage feel to the project, and Jonathan did a great job. 

  The pictures varied from moments that probably didn’t need to be remembered and ones that should have been taken by a professional, but it was perfect, exactly the way you had envisioned it. 

  A snapshot photo of Eddie’s plump lips wrapped around a brown beer bottle after a night of helping Wayne paint the outside of his trailer, his signature middle finger in the air, the rings glittering with the flash— was propped next to a candle.

  One of Wayne and Eddie hugging on Christmas last year, a small tree tucked into the corner of the yellowing smoke stained walls and part of your finger covering the lens, and another one right after the first of them both looking shocked that you snapped the picture. 

  A picture of you and him, holding fishing poles on the bank of Lover’s Lake. His arm wrapped around your waist, your pole holding a sizable fish, his line snagged on moss and a tattered beat up tennis shoe, a proud smile on his face as he looked down at you, you mid laugh as Wayne teased Eddie behind the lens.

  Another of just him in black and white, asleep on the bed you shared his dark tattoos looked piercing against his bare chested. Long angelic lashes closed against pinked warm cheeks, the silver scar barely visible on his bottom lip. 

  One with Eddie and the boys, sitting in the backyard, the tails of the fire licking into the sun fading sky, his hands wild in the middle of explaining a campaign idea. 

  A candid of Steve, Eddie, Robin and Dustin wearing their tuxes and running into the ocean. Shoes snug into the sand and socks left forgotten. Steve’s white jacket thrown into the air, half of a laughing, Leighanne all dolled up and beautiful on their big day. 

  A photo from the same day, but of only you and him, your lips perched on his cheek as he held you in his lap in the back of a limo. His other cheek sparkling with the residue of a lipgloss kiss, one hand holding your strappy lavender heels, the other wrapped around your waist. His dimpled smile wide and toothy.

  And finally, your favorite one: one of just you and him, dressed in your homemade costumes as Mario and Luigi. A felt mustache falling from under your nose,his white gloved hands holding up rock n’ roll. Right before you two had won the Halloween costume contest at Nancy and Jonathan’s house. 

  Wayne had brought baby pictures that he had dug out of an old box in the forgotten storage shed when you had moved in. Dust lining the frames showing a brown haired baby with doe eyes, drooling over a washcloth while in the sink for a bath. A curly haired toddler with a big smile while on the swings at a park. And many more that were placed around the house. 

  The most special of them all sat on Eddie’s bedside table: a woman with soft honey muddied curls sweeping down to the middle of a white blouse, sunglasses pushed into her hair atop her head, kissing the forehead of a baby swaddled in a blanket.

  “Tooty!” Gareth called from the kitchen, “phone call!” 

  You set the napkins next to Nancy who was meticulously adjusting the m&m dish  into its correct place. Trying to balance out the clashing colors with the black and red theme. 

  “Looks perfect as always, Nance,” you murmur as you squeeze her arm gently when you pass her. 

  She huffs in disapproval, sweeping a permed curl behind her ear, her finger to her lips as she tuts, “it’s missing something.” You squeeze her arm again and trot into the living room. 

  Gareth is holding the blue phone by the long cord twirling it around like a pair of nunchucks, shoving the last bits of a hot dog in his mouth, ketchup wedged into the corner by his lips. “ it’s Hig D,” he announciates horribly, “somthin’ about heddie— shit that’s good— something about them just getting ready to leave work.” 

  laughing at him you can only roll your eyes, “you’ll make a good whore someday deep throatin’ like that,” you tease, taking the phone from his hand. 

  Gareth chuckles and shoves your shoulder, “haven't had any complaints yet, Oh! By the way, I need a three day extension on rent. Cool?” 

  Rolling your eyes again, a smile escapes your lips as you flip him off. 

  Of all of Eddie’s friends, Gareth was the hardest one to crack, but now he was easily your favorite. He reminded you a lot of Eddie in high school. A wild haired mess, always down for a crazy adventure to surely land him into trouble. But a big ol softie when it came down to people he cared about, especially Will. 

  Curling your fingers around the telephone cord, you talk into the receiver, “hey D, what’s up?” 

  —-

  Argyle and Jonathan arrive through the front door, smelling like purple palm tree delight and balancing pizza boxes in their arms. 

  Robin spins at least a dozen times trying to find a place for the tower of cheesed pie and nearly knocks into Jonathan in her pursuit of frenzy. The boys slide them into place onto a card table against the kitchen wall, a photo of you and Eddie holding the keys to Hop’s cabin with wide grins on your faces hanging above it. 

  The brisk May breeze flows through the house, flickering the candles and making the helium balloons bump into one another in a lazy staticky dance. 

  A blur of red stalks into the house holding two bottles of liquor in each hand, a baseball hat backwards on her head, “hope Eddie likes whiskey because that’s all Walt would sell me,” she says heaving the bottles onto the counter in a clunkered manner, wiping the sweat from her freckled forehead, sporting a fresh new bob cut all thanks to you, “stubborn ass, he charged me nearly double,” she huffs, folding the paper sacks haphazardly, “son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t even let me use my employee rate!” 

  “Thanks for getting it Maxi-pad,” you say over your shoulder stifling a giggle from the old nickname you hadn’t called her since middle school, “Eddie’ll drink beer from a boot as long as he got a buzz from it—let me know what I owe you.” 

  She spins on squeaky sneakers and grabs a slice of pizza from one of the leaning boxes, squishing the greasy cheese between her teeth, talking with a mouthful “quit— we’re square for all the times you’ve come over since moving back.” 

  A sad expression falters behind the mask on her porcelain complexion. But she’s quick to shove it all away. It had been months since she’d been back in Hawkins, and your friend since elementary school was just starting to get her life back into order.

  “Eddie’s offer still stands by the way,” you gently whisper, turning away from placing candles into the pink frosting to give her a quick squeeze, the fringes of your friendship mending together after years of not really speaking. 

  Holding Max at arms length you raise your eyebrows at her, “I’m serious,” a clip in your voice that even Nancy would envy. 

  She shrugs quickly and looks back with wet blue eyes, not willing to let her guard down on the eve of a party, “I’ll think about it,” her jaw set tight. 

 “Let's have fun tonight, okay?” she begs, “it isn’t every day Eddie’s old decrepit ass turns forty.” 

  The giggle she was hoping for to ease the tension tickled your throat, “he’s twenty nine, Maxine,” you tease back. 

  “Oh-ho-ho,” she chuckles, crossing the linoleum to the fridge in a swift motion, throwing open the door and leaning into the illuminated box, fingers dancing along the brown neck of a Bud Light, a smug smile on her salmon lips, “government names huh, T? I’ll remember that.” 

  —

  Will and Mike were in charge of moving vehicles behind the north tree line away from the driveway and out of sight. Each car owner silently held their breath and the litter of anxiety rising higher as Mike got behind the wheel of each car. 13 tickets by Hopper’s deputies hadn’t slowed him down yet. 

  Leighanne, and El had just finished hanging the decorative white lights on the back deck and around the trees. The backyard looked like a little cozy oasis. And it warmed your soul to see it all come together. 

  It was rough when you had first moved in here. Hopper had a buddy who owned the cabin you now call home. It was far from town but hadn’t been renovated in years. Nothing a little elbow grease and nights after work wouldn’t fix, it took six months with help from just about everyone you knew, but the place was perfect. 

  And after everything that happened in Hawkins, Eddie’s promise stuck. 

  He got you both out. Started a new life away from the wandering eyes and whispered lies. Even after he was cleared, people still wouldn’t let it go. 

  But, the cabin was everything you could imagine and more. Perched into a thick grove of trees. Secluded. Secretive. Exactly what you both needed. 

  It was  heaven. 

  Lounging on blankets in the soft grass, bare toes curled into the soft comforter, the girls sat back and laughed as Steve nearly tipped over the entire pan of grilled burgers and hot dogs.  

  “Yeah laugh it up you two!” Steve scolded playfully, tugging and shoving a hand into the thick tuft of hair on his head, “you won’t be laughing when there’s nothing to eat!” 

  “Such sass from The Grill Master,” Leighanne giggled, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, a large diamond on her ring finger.

  Before Steve could whip up something cheeky, Arygle’s smooth baritone voice broke amongst the laughs, “Damn my dude,” he chuckled, leading Eden’s small frame through the patio door, “smells good out here.” 

  Steve huffs again, “Thanks, I’m just doing what I’m told, don’t mind the peanut gallery back there,” he gestures with his spatula to the two giggling gals on the blanket. 

  The keg was perched on the small back deck, ice melting slowly around the tin base. Steve had been grilling burgers for the last half hour, smears of grease rubbed on the bottom of his red apron embossed with fancy lettering, kiss the cook.

  “And you’re doing it man,” Argyle salutes him as a fellow culinary soldier, “it’s art what you’re doing dude, pure fuckin art—like Picasso if he was a chef… piSteveo.”

  “Okay man—yeah, I get it,” Steve says all in one breath, rolling his eyes and cracking a grin back at his bride who was biting her own cheek and trying not to laugh. “Dustin and Susie ride with you?” 

  “Yeah,” Eden scowls, crossing her legs and dragging Argyle down to sit on the picnic bench, her black pixie cut fluttering in the light breeze resembling a real life goth tinkerbell, “that four eyed little shit kept going on and on about the ecosystem and methane gas or whatever, so yeah they’re here— probably terrorizing everyone else about the election or some shit.” 

  Steve snorts and flips another burger onto the grates, the sizzle of charred seasoned beef signaling the first signs of summer, “sounds about right.” 

  “Alright guys,” you say stepping through the sliding patio door, the sun close to setting in the west taking the warmth with it, “D said they’re just leaving so everyone get in position.” 

  -

  “..I’m just sayin’ is all,” D barks, finishing wiping the grease from a gas station bean burrito on the back of his hand from his pudgy lips, “I’ll give you top dollar for it.” 

  Eddie took another sip from his Mt. Dew, barreling down the highway and thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, contemplating heavily on what Big D had been asking of him. 

  “fuck I dunno man… it’s like a part of me y’know?” 

  Eddie rubs the beginning of his scruffy chin, unable to grow a full beard even though he’s nearly in his thirties, Peter Pan syndrome hitting him square in the jaw. 

  “had it since I was fifteen, fixed it all up with my uncle,” he mumbles lighting a cigarette between his teeth, “it’s a staple to the Munson name.” 

  D rolls his eyes and tosses the foil wrapper to the floorboards of Eddie’s truck. “that was like twenty years ago man, you don’t even drive it anymore.”

  Eddie chuckles through a cloud a smoke, turning the steering wheel to the right down the hidden driveway, overgrown grass on both ends of a rotted through fence post, “easy there asshole— ‘sides, thought you were buying Jeff’s mom’s car?” 

  D slides belches loud and throws his chubby hand out the window, fresh air wiggling his fingers slowly, “I did, just gotta fix it up, but the van would be my daily driving chick magnet.” He wiggles his eyebrows like two black caterpillars dancing a tango. 

  Eddie smiles to himself, memories of past times booze cruising to Rick’s and hauling band equipment to the Hideout. Times long gone and fading like the moon into dawn. 

  A time when he was ruthless, chaotic and hungry for the world’s shittiness just so he could add his own fucked up version to it. A big fuck you to anyone who ever doubted him. 

  A time before you were officially his. 

  Nowadays the bear inside of him was tame, licking its paws in laziness, hibernating with the sounds of a calm beating heart. Fed and cared for, content. 

  “We’ll see,” he replies, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “you still owe me $40 for that service you gifted to that waitress last week, fucker.” 

  “Pffft,” D says lighting a cigarette, “take it out of my check boss man.” 

  Eddie cranked his lips into a smirk, it still didn’t feel real.

-

  The roar of Eddie’s diesel truck echoes along the tree line, vibrating against the fallen branches from the late winter storm that snapped full grown Red Oaks like matchsticks when the ice built heavy onto its branches. 

  The cabin lights were dim, curtains pulled tight to barely show the glimpse of any crack of light. It wasn’t unusual, your lives were kept pretty private after everything that happened, doors always locked. 

  “The hell?” Eddie grumbled, wiggling the stick into neutral with the palm of his hand and killing the engine, the old dodge sputtering out to quiet, “thought you said Gareth was comin’ over to practice tonight?” 

  D fumbled for words, reaching for the metal door handle “no, yeah he’s here— maybe Will dropped ‘im off.”

  Eddie quirked an eyebrow, the exhaustion from work taking over his features as he let out a loud yawn and arched his back against the velour seats, he climbed out of the pickup, lunchbox in tow. 

  “alright man, ‘m just gonna shower quick,” he hooks a thumb behind his shoulder, walking up the stone path to the front door, “think Tooty still has the hose hooked up if you wanted to rinse off.” 

  D stomps around the truck, leaning a thick arm onto the hood, “don’t make any special accommodations for me dude, I’m cool.” 

  “Yeah yeah you’re pretty cool alright,” Eddie said climbing the two steps with heavy footsteps, and putting a brass key into the knob, twisting it in his grasp, “why’d you think I had the window dow—”

  Eddie is almost knocked back into the wall by the room full of his friends shouting surprise! as he entered the cabin. 

  Shock and a racing heartbeat wash away to a dimpled smile and squinted eyes. It was worth the weeks of planning and aligning everyone’s schedules to make it all work out. And in the end, the crowd turned into a blur when you peaked your head behind the kitchen wall grinning wide at the handsome man at the door. 

  His girl. His one and only. Spoiling him with a surprise party. Mouthing “happy birthday baby,” from across the room with a warm smile that still was able to tinge his cheeks in the prettiest shade of bashful. 

  Backs were slapped and shoulders clapped as Eddie made his way around to the guests. His smile was wide and toothy, lighting up the room with his deep laugh and dimples. 

  He hugged friends like he hadn’t seen them in years, pressed cheek to cheek and apologizing later for grease smudges left on their shirts. 

  “Shit,” Wayne breathed, as he stepped into the doorway, finding you immediately and looking sympathetic, “sorry we’re late, the missus was wrappin’ a last minute gift.” 

  Nancy and Mike’s mom stood tucked beneath Wayne’s arm. Four gifts wrapped tight and pristine, held in her arms. The alimony from Ted was still treating her more than well. 

  “Wayne,” Karen giggles like a schoolgirl, a long manicured hand to his denim jacket, dismissing him with a wink, “here Tooty,” she gleams, walking towards you with her arms outstretched, embracing you in a hug, “it’s just a little something for the two of you, saw it at the mall and couldn’t resist!” 

  It was an adjustment for the youngest Wheeler when Karen left Ted. Nancy and Mike didn’t seem to care, having already been moved out of the house and living their own lives. But Holly took it hard, refusing to see her mother at all. 

  “It’s perfect thank you Karen,” Eddie said, sneaking around you, his fingers dragging along your lower back  and down your hip, sending shivers to your core. A quick wink to you as he grabs the gifts from her and Wayne. 

  He was happy for them, he had never seen Wayne with someone who treated him so well before  in his life, he gave his shoulder a squeeze, “next time put your glasses on so you can see while driving, might get here on time, old man.”

  Wayne rolled his eyes and put Eddie in a headlock, “I ain’t here to see you anyhow, came to see my favorite daughter in law to be if you’d just marry her already, didn’t even know it was your birthday you little punk.” 

  “Yeah yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “that’s why it says ‘Ed’s birthday’ on the calendar in your office, right? Because you didn’t know?” 

  Wayne releases Eddie and gives him a side hug, “been celebratin’ this day for twenty-three years with y’ boy, I ain’t never forgettin’” 

  Karen was always like a mother to you. The Wheeler’s held such a special place in your heart, and you’d always be grateful for the kindness both her and Ted had shown you when you were growing up. Seeing her now with Wayne surprisingly wasn’t that odd. They balanced each other well. 

  Wayne pulls you into the other side of him, keeping you and Eddie under each arm, “looks real good in here darlin’” He says, looking down at you with icy blue eyes, “sure am glad  y’ learned how to tame this wild li’l shit.” 

  you smile up at the Munson’s and Eddie sticks out his tongue at you. 

  “Now,” he says addressing only Eddie, “I swear on my mama and daddy’s graves, Ed, you better marry this girl someday or ‘m gonna hang y’ from your toes by that clothesline out back.” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes, but before he can speak, Nancy  waves at her mother and stands atop a metal chair.

  “Alright everyone, let’s go out back and we can start eating.”

  Once the room emptied it was just you and Eddie. The tension was always thick in every room you were in with him, electric in ways that buzzed between your legs and made your head feel fuzzy. 

  You waited your turn patiently. 

  Eddie coins a coy grin behind his plump lips, walking with his hands behind his back and moving his shoulder low, cocking his head. 

  Your hands, busy themselves with arranging presents, fingers slipping between the silky ribbons and plucking the ends to watch them curl.  Warm arms surround your waist and you act surprised and let out a squeal. 

  He sets you down and pushes the collar of your shirt to the side, pressing his lips like angel’s wings to the skin on your shoulder, relishing in the way the goosebumps crawled across your flesh. 

  “Eddie,” you hum, working your fingers behind you to pull on the tendrils of sweaty hair tucked behind his neck. 

  “Hmm?” He breathes hot across your neck, working his way up to the dainty gold necklace, the same one brandishing the ring he gave you for Christmas in 1992, nothing compared to the one he was eyeballing at the jewelry store in the mall. 

  Rubbing the underside of your chin with the bulb of his nose, you shudder and feel his grin on your skin, “all of this for me?” 

  You nod and whine when a large hand dances across the waist of your jeans. And almost let out a moan when he nips at your earlobe. 

  Eddie’s work days were long but the nights spent between the sheets were longer, both of you never getting enough of each other. The passion and static was always there. 

  “Wanted to surprise my birthday boy,” you breathed as your head fell back into his shoulder, and he bucked his hips into you, pushing you into the rickety table and shaking the presents. 

  “You’re too good to me,” Eddie whispered into your ear, his fingers digging into your hips. “How am I ever going to thank my pretty gir—?”

  “Hey you guys comin’ or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips and a scorch mark on his apron, “Nancy’s making a fucking seating chart out there, and I really hope you have liability insurance because Argyle is trying to teach Dustin yoga.”

  Eddie takes his lips from your neck and turns to face Steve, “I mean, we coulda been if you hadn’t barged in.” 

  “Eddie!” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and straightening your shirt, “we’ll be right out Steve, just going to give Eddie his birthday present.” 

  His eyes sparkle in mischievous wonder, “oooh you think we have time?” He says unbuttoning his work blues, “I like the way you think dirty sweetheart.” 

  You roll your eyes and tug him down the hallway to your bedroom. 

  “Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, shaking his head and making his way through the patio door, “nah don’t worry I’ll entertain the guests,” he says in annoyance, “maybe we can play parcheesi or hotdog Jenga.” 

  —

  “Don’t peek!” 

  “Oh c’mon!” 

  “Eddie.” 

  “Ugh fine, but you better be naked or I’ll pout.” 

  “Such a brat...”

  “Don’t act surprised babe.” 

  “Alright open, but I am very much still dressed, that part of your present is later tonight.” 

  Eddie had showered and was getting dressed shoving his feet into a worn pair of converse when you waltzed into the room, a small oblong box behind your back. 

  Dropping the carefully wrapped present into his awaiting hands, he holds the box like a carton of eggs. One eye peeked open, “well,” Eddie says rubbing the corners of the box with the calloused pads on his thumbs, “this doesn’t feel like a puppy.” 

  “You poor boy,” you tease with a shove to his shoulder, and a kiss to his cheek, “how will you ever live?” 

  Eddie tears the paper with a hook of his finger where the tape joins the pieces, wet tendrils of hair dripping water marks onto the wrapping, “it’ll be hard but I think I’ll manage.” 

  Biting your lip in anticipation you watch as Eddie tears the paper in boyish glee. And you aren’t sure who’s smile is wider when he finally opens the small rectangle shaped box. 

  It took awhile to save up for it. Cutting countless heads of hair in the renovated room above Master Mechanic’s, the auto shop Eddie co-owned with Wayne in Bridgeport, and earning a small wage by cleaning houses for a few hours on the weekends. 

  But every scrubbed toilet, every rolled perm rod was worth it when Eddie opened his present. 

  “It's about time you saw them live, yeah?” 

  Tickets to Metallica, the same gift. But this time with the promise of actually going and witnessing their magic. 

  “Oh baby,” Eddie nearly cried, running his fingers over the inked words carefully, he set the tickets down on the comforter and wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you into him, “why are you so good to me?” 

  And just like the first time he asked you, years ago, before you were his and he was yours. When you were just roommates exchanging gifts on Christmas. You told him what you should have then. 

  but you don’t fight to find the words anymore, or wonder if it’ll sound dumb. Everything you've been through with Eddie you could never imagine living life with anyone other than him. 

  The words come easy, and it’s one of the truest things you’ve ever said. 

  “Because you’re a good man. Because you’re the reason I wake up smiling every morning. Because I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, and I’ll always, always regret not telling you sooner.” 

  Eddie smiles with a quivering lip and you lean down to wipe the tears from his eyes, his arms wrap around you tight like a vice grip.

  Looking into his eyes, he somehow looked better with every year passing, truly aging like fine wine, and you were drunk on him.

   “Don’t cry on your birthday baby, it’s supposed to be a party,” you smile warmly at him, bringing his chin up a bit

so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

  Pulling you into him so you’re straddling his hips, he whispers an I love you into your ear with your real name attached at the end, all satiny on his breath like a Hershey kiss.

  You don’t hear your God given name very often, having hated it for as long as you remember. Stubbornly telling everyone at a young age that your name was Tooty. Even writing it on all of your school papers as early as kindergarten. 

  But when Eddie said it, it set your soul on fire. Like a secret kept finally being told. Like another wall breaking down with him holding the sledge hammer. Like the first bite of a warm brownie from the oven. It felt good. 

  He presses slow kisses into your neck and moves his large hands to rock your hips against him, “you’re never gonna get rid of me, you know that right?” 

  “Fuck I hope not,” you whisper as you nip at his bare  shoulder,  “I made your favorite cake for tonight and everything.” 

  “Mmm,” Eddie purrs against the column of your throat, “strawberry?” 

  Gathering skin between your teeth you suck a small bruise into his pale neck, tongue swirling soft then firm, his pretty noises filling the bedroom walls. 

  “Yep,” you breathe with swollen lips, and popping the ‘p’, “extra frosting.”

  “Lady evil at it again,” Eddie teases, capturing your lips into a hungry kiss, his hands scoring down your back and bringing your hips impossibly closer to where you were both aching. 

  You giggle as he breaks away, and tickles your sides. He flips you onto the bed. The bulb of his nose wedging between your neck and shoulder as his hips hold you in place, his fingers dig into your armpits, and your ribs. 

  You laugh until your face is red and your neck is slick and painted with a stain of raspberry teeth marks and the lap of his tongue licking the bites better. 

  He gives you a wicked grin, out of breath and his lips swollen, his demeanor changes into something serious. 

He holds his hand on your cheek, sweeping your skin delicately with the pad of his thumb, holding you so gently as if you were made of porcelain, “I’m gonna make you my wife.” 

  Your fingernails scratch lightly down his chest, skipping over the tattoo of little angel wings and a halo for the unborn child you didn’t get the luxury of holding, matching the one on your inner arm. The date etched below in Eddie’s own handwriting. 

  It wasn’t the only new tattoo he had gotten since that day.

  He also had a mockup of a cartoon lady, devil horns on her head and a long black demon tail wagging behind her, that sat on his bicep. A pout identical to yours on her pretty little face, arms crossed in a fit.  ‘my girl’ in old English font beneath her little stiletto heels. 

  Your fingertips trace the lines of blank ink on his chest. And you lift your eyes to his. 

  Opening your soul to him for the millionth time, spreading its wings and joining with his into that dream land he swore he’d take you to, dancing on the rings of Saturn, bathing in the springs of Jupiter. 

  He smiles softly and so do you, heart soaring and beating fast, “about damn time,” you whisper softly just before his lips close around yours.

  Although your life would never be the same after that awful day, the one you were crafting and coloring outside the straight black lines with Eddie by your side, was pretty damn great. 

  And you wouldn’t change a thing.

🤧

🏷️

@bebe07011 @dashingdeb16 @hiscrimsonangel @luxaeterna13 @enam3l

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #honey I’m home series

[daysofyellowroses]

yellow rose

david von erich x afab!reader | 6.2k | 18+ minors dni | tw: language, smoking, mild smut | a reflection on your journey to the altar

so this is a complete and utter work of fiction, based on the very brilliant movie the iron claw. i knew as soon as i watched it i would have stories but i was a little surprised david came to me first. obviously harris dickinson is beautiful but i am down so bad for jaw. i got some kerry ideas too, and i always have a hundred different bear ideas on the go too so more to come | also just to note that because this is totally fictitious, i am choosing to ignore real life events for the most part and live in fanfic delusion. enjoy 🌼

-

It all seemed to happen in a flash.

In theory, you should have been used to it. Ready for it.

One minute you were heading to a local sports center on a work assignment, then in what felt like the blink of an eye, you were walking up the aisle to marry the subject of one of those photos.

But, to get to how exactly you ended up walking down that aisle, you need to go back to how it all started.

Which, like with most things when it came to you,started with a picture.

📷

From an early age, you loved photography. Capturing a moment in time, being able to look at it any time and relive the moment was always a thrill. Your childhood home was full of framed photos and photo albums, a collection of memories surrounding you.

When you turned 13, your parents gave you your own camera. It wasn't anything too technical or fancy, but it was immediately your most treasured possession. You took photos of everything, family occasions, your friends hanging out, nature, snapshots of Dallas.

As you grew older you threw yourself into studying everything about photography, worked an extremely tedious part time job to save up for a real camera, dedicated yourself to honing your skills. It wasn't difficult, your friends and family kept you busy with birthday parties, weddings, christenings, anything worth celebrating and you were there to capture the moments.

When you were in your senior year of high school, you discovered a fondness for a particular subject of your photos. You had been sitting in the bleachers after school one day with your friends, all you of chatting and laughing about something when you'd looked onto the football field and spotted two of the players talking about something animatedly, one of them slapping the other on the back as they laughed. 

You had grabbed your camera, snapping a photo and rolled your eyes playfully as your friends teased you. Sure, the players were cute, but that wasn't why you took their photo. When the shots had developed, you were thrilled that your instinct had been correct. The red of the players jerseys popped, the gold star on their helmets gleaming in the sun. They looked graceful, despite their large frames, natural and charming. 

From that photo, you began to base more of your photos on sport. It wasn't an area you had expected to become interested in, but it inspired your photography. Cheerleaders in perfectly formed pyramids, track stars crossing the line, football players clutching the ball to their chest as they threw themselves across the post.

After graduation, you applied for a journalism course, figuring it didn't hurt to have a backup plan and maybe it would get you a gig as a photographer for a newspaper or magazine. 

Leaving home was tough, especially when a big going away party was thrown for you, your friends and family coming together to celebrate your accomplishments. When the time came to leave you were sure you'd never cried so much, trying to hype yourself up for the adventure ahead.

It was a lot of fun, being at college, as it turned out. Making new friends, learning new things, having new experiences. By the time it was over it felt like you could back and do it all again in a heartbeat.

You decided to move back to Dallas after you graduated. A job opportunity at a big paper came up, and your friend Pam had found an apartment that came with a spare room so it seemed like the right move.

It was about two weeks later you were tasked with going down to the Sportatorium on a Saturday night to document the latest wrestling match. Every time you went to a sporting event for work, you were accompanied by the senior sports writer, Duke. He was older than your father, far too old for his cheap toupee to be even the slightest bit believable. He wore cheap polyester suits, too much cologne and had a fondness for calling you ‘missy’ and placing his hand a little too low on your back.

You had psyched yourself up to ask Pam to come along, preparing a whole speech in your head. If she was with you then you could avoid Duke like the plague, couldn't possibly leave your guest alone. 

Turned out Pam didn't take much convincing at all, in fact she practically jumped at the chance to come along. You tucked her excitement away in your mind, curious to see if the source would reveal itself at the match.

When the day came, you were excited to get some shots of a new sport. From what you'd seen on TV, the Sportatorium was bright and colorful, the wrestlers just as much so. You packed up your camera before getting changed into some jeans and a t-shirt. 

Pam had taken one look at you and marched you back into your room, your protests of “But I'm working!” falling on deaf ears.

A compromise was reached. Your t-shirt stayed but a denim mini skirt replaced your jeans and brown cowboy boots replaced your beat up sneakers. You felt a little ridiculous, your job had you in all kinds of angles and positions to get the best shots, the last thing you wanted was to be unable to get a good picture because you'd end up flashing tomorrow's laundry to thousands of strangers.

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, the sun was dipping below the horizon and what seemed like hundreds of cars and trucks were pulling up. People were grabbing beers out of coolers, blasting music from boomboxes, grilling up hotdogs on portable barbecues. You got a couple of shots before Pam was hustling you inside to get your seats. Well, her seat. You told her you'd meet her outside after the match, not that she seemed to be paying attention, her eyes focused on the empty ring. 

You made your way down to the ring, keeping an eye out for Duke and ready to sprint back to Pam if needed. To your relief, Duke wasn't in attendance. The junior sports reporter, Brian, had been sent in his place. The two of you weren't exactly close friends but he was much more professional. You got some shots of the crowd, feeling excited to see a match live. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, like something incredible was about to happen. 

When the announcement came for the first tag team, you got some shots of them walking through the tunnel and into the ring, holding their arms in the air and greeting the crowd. Brian walked around the ring slowly, scribbling into a notepad, cigarette perched behind his ear.

Then they announced the next tag team, and you moved to the opposite tunnel to get shots of them. You took a breath as you snapped a shot of the taller one, his wavy blonde hair peeking out from under his back cowboy hat. He was wearing a leather jacket that he promptly tore off before he got into the ring, his back muscles rippling. 

You cleared your throat, taking more photos and trying to concentrate on what you were there for. 

The bell rang, and once the match started you had no shortage of great photo opportunities. The men in the ring moved with perfect proficiency and style, playing up to the crowd and putting on a spectacular show. You found yourself more and more drawn to the tall blonde, David Von Erich, you discovered. 

He was so graceful yet could have these huge men slammed onto their backs, his arms bulging and a cocky grin on his face. Once or twice you could have sworn he caught your eye and winked at you but you were sure it was your imagination. 

The Von Erichs won the match, you snapped a photo of the referee holding up the brother's hands as the crowd roared. Brian checked back in with you, telling you he was going to grab some quotes before heading off. You bid him farewell before going to find Pam, heading outside with the rest of the crowd.

“Hey, over here!”

You quickly spotted Pam, smiling as you waved back at her, weaving your way through the crowd to join her.

“Hey,” You smiled, laughing softly as Pam grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her face. “Are you al-”

“Come on,” Pam immediately started tugging you in the opposite direction. “let me show you something,”

You just about managed to maintain your balance and hold onto your camera as you dodged through the dispersing crowd, wondering what exactly Pam was doing.

Before long you had an answer, as you and Pam joined a large group of women hanging around the back door of the Sportatorium. Her keenness to come to the match made much more sense when Kevin Von Erich walked out the door, towel around his shoulders and bag slung over his shoulder. You had never known Pam to look at any man the way she was looking at Kevin.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked, giving Pam a gentle nudge. “Get on over there, girl.”

“I can't, there's too many girls round him,” Pam sighed. “I am not desperate. I'll wait for my time.”

“Saving the best for last huh?” You grinned, watching Pam roll her eyes playfully. “I don't think he's gonna be able to take his eyes off you.”

“You think?” Pam asked, glancing over to you. She looked genuinely concerned and you gave her a reassuring smile. 

“I know.”

A little while later, when the crowd had dispersed and Kevin was signing the last couple of autographs, you gave Pam a gentle nudge, smiling as she quickly fixed her hair.

“Good luck,” You grinned, gently squeezing her arm. “Not that you need it.”

You gave her some space, walking over to a trash can before fishing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. You lit one up, glancing over to Pam and smiling as you spotted Kevin heading in her direction. Closing your eyes as you looked away, you took a long drag on your cigarette and felt yourself relax.

“You know it's a bad habit to smoke those things.”

You opened your eyes, finding a familiar face standing close to you. He looked better in person than he did in the ring, if that was possible. 

“Well I'm sure you know that it is very rude to keep your hat on in the presence of a lady,” You raised a brow, flicking your ash into the trash can. “I could be deeply insulted.”

“I apologize,” David grinned, taking off his hat and giving you a slight bow as he did. He introduced himself properly, as did you, his hand moving over his heart as he tilted his head. “You know I was just joking, there's worse habits to have than smoking.”

You nodded, smiling a little. “Like creeping up on strangers?”

He laughed and you felt a flutter in your stomach. You willed it away, not wanting to be another simpering fan.

“You want one?” You asked, holding out the box of cigarettes. David looked like he was considering saying yes before he shook his head. 

“No, thank you. I shouldn't.”

“Fair enough,” You nodded, putting the box back in your purse. “It really is a bad habit. I'm trying to quit but I got some time to kill so..”

“Oh yeah?” David raised a brow, glancing around the quiet car park before looking back at you. “What you waiting for?”

“My friend,” You gestured in the direction of Pam, who was deep in conversation with Kevin. “she's a big fan.”

“So I see,” David grinned, looking over to his brother and Pam before focusing his attention back on you. “and uh..what about you? Are you a big fan?”

You thought about it/made him wait for a moment as you took a drag on your cigarette and raised a brow.

“I'm just here for work.”

“Really?” David looked a little surprised, lightly rubbing his jaw. “What kinda work do you do?”

You held up your camera with a smile before flicking your cigarette in the trash can. “I’m a photographer,” You explained. “for a newspaper.”

“Oh right,” David smiled, folding his arms. “I'll have to buy that, see if you got any good ones of me. Which paper is it?”

“It's the uh..huh,” You grinned as you glanced over to Pam, watching her laugh as Kevin said something to her. “Excuse me for one second.” 

You turned slightly, holding your camera up and focusing it on Pam and Kevin. You felt very aware of David's presence behind you, trying to hold your hands steady as you snapped a picture. 

“I have a feeling I may need that one day,” You smiled, settling your camera strap back over your shoulder and turning to David. “They're cute together, don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” David nodded, his gaze staying on you. “She ain't the cutest one here though.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile on your face and multiple flutters in your stomach. 

“Oh shut up, that's such a line.”

“I'm deadly serious,” David grinned, holding his hat over his heart. “I promise.”

You were about to say something when Pam appeared, linking her arm with yours and giggling as she went to drag you away. 

“Hang on one second,” David called, making you look over your shoulder with a smile.

“You never told me the name of your paper!”

“It's in Dallas,” You called back, walking forward with Pam, the two of you giggling. “If you find it, call me!”

📷

A couple of days later you were in the newspaper office, going over some photos for an upcoming article when one of the secretaries knocked on the door and asked for you.

“Call for you,” She explained, gesturing to the phone as you went to her desk. “They didn't give a name, just asked for you.”

“Okay, thanks Margaret,” You smiled, feeling a slight knot in your stomach. It was extremely rare someone called you at work, and you tried not to think the worst. 

Going to the phone, you picked it up and took a deep breath before holding it to your ear. 

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief as you realized who was on the other end of the line, a small smile on your face.

“How many papers did you have to call before you found me?”

“That's not important.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin.

“More than two?”

“..five.”

“Oh wow,” You grinned, turning more towards the wall. “That's perseverance right there. I'm flattered.”

“Well so am I,” David replied. “I saw those pictures you took. They were great, I wanted to thank you for catching me at such a flattering angle.”

“You're welcome,” You smiled, glancing over your shoulder before looking back and lowering your voice slightly. “That the only reason you called six newspapers? Angles?”

“Not quite,” You could hear a cheeky tone in his voice, your fingers holding the phone cord. “I was hoping you'd come see me again. You don't have to take pictures this time, if you don't want.”

“As it happens I am coming,” You raised a brow with a smile. “Your brother beat you to the invite. He invited Pam, who invited me. So I'll be there.”

“Well damn,” David laughed softly. “I guess I'll just have to come right out with it then..ask you on a real date.”

“Oh?” You grinned, feeling like a teenager as your cheeks grew warm. “How about we make it interesting?”

“I'm all ears.”

You took a breath, trying to calm your heartbeat. You were aware of Margaret behind you, knowing she'd be listening to every word. 

“Alright, if you win..I accept. If you don't, no deal.”

“Hm, sounds fair,” David replied. “I guess I'll have to try a little harder this week. I'll let you get back to work, alright?”

“Alright,” You nodded, trying not too smile too widely. “I'll see you Saturday. Bye.”

You hung up the phone, turning around to Margaret with a polite smile.

“Thank you, I'll be in the office.”

Once you closed the door and found yourself alone, you let out a laugh, shaking your head and wondering what you'd let yourself in for.

📷

Saturday came around quickly, and most of the day was given over to preparing. At first you were just helping Pam, heading into store after store to find the perfect outfit. Then you started looking for yourself, realizing that you wanted to put in just a little more effort since you were going to watch, not work. 

As the evening drew closer, the radio was on full blast in the apartment as you and Pam cracked open a bottle of wine and started the beauty process. You couldn't shake the slight nerves that were settled in your stomach, but they were joined by an excitement. 

“Oh,” Pam turned from the bathroom mirror to look at you. You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, carefully painting your toenails. “Did he ever get in touch? David? I completely forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, he found me,” You grinned, laughing as Pam gasped. “Asked me to come along tonight. I told him I was already coming.”

“And?” Pam asked, waving her hand at you. “What else? Did he ask you out?”

“I told him he can take me out if he wins,” You smiled, holding the bottle of nail polish up in the air with a laugh as Pam rushed over to hug you.

“This is so exciting! We're gonna be like sisters!”

📷

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, it seemed to be even busier than it had been the previous week. You stepped out of your truck, smoothing out your outfit. It was only a black off the shoulder top and some denim jeans but you hoped it still looked good. 

You linked your arm with Pam's as the two of you headed inside the bustling arena, your heart beating faster as you took your seats. As it turned out, watching the match was totally different to photographing it. You couldn't move about, couldn't pick one thing to focus on. It was all happening, bright and loud and thrilling. You found yourself cheering and whistling with the crowd, you and Pam both jumping up and screaming when the Von Erichs emerged victorious.

When it was all over and you were enjoying the fresh air, you couldn't help but find it adorable when Kevin couldn't keep his eyes off Pam while he signed autographs. Once he was free you gave him and Pam some space, almost immediately bumping into David.

“Hey winner,” You smiled, resting your hands in your back pockets. “Nice angles in there.”

“I hope someone was there to capture them,” David grinned, taking his hat off. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, watching David for a moment, smiling as you realized he almost seemed a little nervous. “I really enjoyed it..though I'm a little curious about something.”

“What might that be?” David asked, moving his hat from one hand to the other. 

“Well,” You smiled, stepping closer and looking up at him. “Are you going to honor our agreement?”

📷

It was only when you were putting on your coat to leave the apartment when it dawned on that you hadn't actually been on a first date for..a while. There were some relationships in high school, a couple in college along with some dates and flings but the last had been before you graduated. 

You tried not to think about it too much, you were just going for dinner and seeing a movie. Worst case scenario, you and David didn't end up hitting it off and the world would go on as it always did. But part of you was hopeful that something would come from the date, that it would develop into something really great.

Grabbing your purse, you left the apartment and went downstairs to hail a cab, excitement starting to outweigh the nerves.

📷

“No way,” You laughed, your eyes going wide as you placed your hand over your chest. “You did not do that.”

“Yes I did,” David nodded, a serious look on his face before he laughed. “I was so sick afterwards. Never got found out though. Mom just went and got Kerry and Mike a new egg each. I couldn't eat chocolate for like three months.”

“I'm not surprised,” You laughed, picking up your drink. “You can't say you didn't deserve it.”

David laughed, nodding as he picked up his own drink. 

“I certainly did deserve it. Moment of weakness I guess.” 

You took a sip of your drink before setting the glass down and glancing around the restaurant. It was a steakhouse, but it felt like a nice one. Elegant lighting, candles on the tables, classy music playing. No sawdust or butcher paper to be found. 

“So do you think your brothers ever found out?” You asked, sitting up a little and resting your hands in your lap. “Or did you tell them?”

“No to both I'm afraid,” David sighed softly, lightly tapping his glass as he set it down. “Though I think Kev knew it was me..” He smiled to himself as he looked down. “Never said anything if he did know, though.”

“Seems like you two are close,” You smiled, your heart picking up a beat as David looked back at you with a warm smile. 

“We are,” He nodded. “We all are. I can't imagine life without them, they're amazing.” 

You felt your heart swell, trying not to get too swept up in your emotions. 

“That's so wonderful,” You smiled. “It's amazing that you're all so close.”

“Yeah,” David grinned, sitting up a little. “I just feel so lucky every day, like..” He stopped himself, lightly rubbing his neck.

“You know what, I feel like all I've done is talk about myself, my brothers, I don't want you to think I'm self absorbed or nothing, I promise I ain't like that.”

You shook your head, reaching your hand across the table and grinning when David held it with his own.

“I know you're not,” You insisted. “You're wonderful. Now tell me more about your family, I want the good stories.”

You ended up missing the movie, but neither of you cared. You talked until the restaurant was closing, David's jacket around your shoulders as you walked out into the night air. He gave you a ride home and kissed your cheek by your door  like a gentleman. 

“I had a great time,” You smiled, carefully taking off David's jacket and giving it back to him. You could tell he wanted to tell you to keep it, and you knew why he couldn't. 

“Maybe you should win another match, take me out again.”

“It's a deal.”

📷

Going to matches became a weekly event. You and Pam would cheer and cling to each other, laughing at how silly you were being. You took pictures for yourself, wanting to remember every moment. Afterwards you would meet David and Kevin, go for burgers and debrief on the match. 

It wasn't always easy for David to visit you, so you called each other when you could, spending an hour or two talking about anything and everything. You drove down to Denton a couple of times, meeting him for something to eat or just for a drive. 

He was always a perfect gentleman, opening doors for you and holding your hand, never pressing for anything more even though you suspected he was just as keen as you were to take things further.

You decided to nudge things in the right direction one night when you had gone down to visit him. Pam had come with you, and David and Kevin had taken you to the lake with their brother Mike, who you instantly adored. 

The afternoon was perfect, gorgeous hot weather and ice cold beers, floating along in the water and feeling like nothing else could possibly matter but being in that moment. 

You were sitting on the edge of the dock while the others drifted along on the huge rubber float, snapping a couple of shots of them before setting the camera aside. David appeared next to you, sitting down and resting his hand on your back. You leaned into the touch, his arm moving around your shoulders. 

“I love this,” You smiled softly, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “If every day was like this..what a world.”

“It's perfect,” David murmured softly. “I can't think of anything better.”

“Hm, I reckon I can,” You smiled, opening your eyes and looking up at him. His eyes were already on you and you grinned as he took a breath and leaned in, his lips feeling like heaven against yours. 

You could hear the cheers and whistles, smiling into the kiss and feeling satisfied beyond belief. 

📷

“You ready for this?”

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Absolutely not.”

You flicked on the indicator and headed up the long drive to the Von Erich home, glancing over to Pam in the passenger seat.

“At least we're in this together.”

It was incredibly daunting, the thought of meeting David's parents and his brother Kerry, who had recently come home. He had told you countless times that they would love you, but it didn't ease your nerves. 

You were relieved to have Pam with you, that she was in the same boat. Mike met you both at the door, giving you both a hug and chatting away as he led you outside. 

It was a flurry of introductions, handshakes and hugs and the most perfect kiss from David that had you instantly relaxing.

By the time everyone sat down for dinner, it felt as though you had known the Von Erichs forever. The food was delicious, the weather was beautiful, the company was amazing. You felt David reach for your hand under the table when his parents talked about how they met, your heart swelling. 

When Doris forbade Mike from going to a gig that night, you glanced across the table to Pam smiling as she gave you a slight nod.

📷

“Alright, drive, drive!”.

You put your foot down, laughing as you glanced in the mirror and watched your boyfriend and his brothers gradually haul themselves into your truck. You turned the radio up when you left the driveway, rolling down the windows and cheering as you hit the road.

It didn't matter whose house the party was in, it was big and roomy and most importantly, fun. You had a beer in your hand before you knew it, hitting the makeshift dance floor. The brothers spun you and Pam around, laughter filling the air as you moved to the music, not a care in the world.

When Mike took to the stage with his band, you stood with David behind you, his arms wrapped around you. You all cheered as the song started up, swaying along as you held your hands over David's. 

Later in the evening you gently took David's hand and pulled him into a quiet corner, whispering in his ear and enjoying the slightly tipsy smile that crossed his face, a flash of worry passing his eyes.

You led him upstairs, finding an empty bedroom and closing the door.

“We..we don't have to,” David insisted as you slipped off your shoes. “I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“I don't,” You smiled, walking to the end of the bed and unzipping your dress before turning back to David. “But I will think you don't want to if you don't get over here in the next thirty seconds.”

He didn't need to be asked twice.

You laughed as you were picked up bridal style and carried to the top of the bed, letting out a soft moan as David laid you down and gave you a tender kiss.

Despite your suspicions that David was possibly a virgin, you didn't ask when he didn't bring it up. He was a little apprehensive, but once you took the lead he seemed to tap into his ring persona and the confidence in his movements had you struggling not to scream as your nails dug into his back, the sheets, your body crying out for more. 

“Oh god,” You moaned, touching David's cheek and looking up to meet his eyes as your legs hooked around his waist. “Baby..’m so close, please..”

You closed your eyes as he pushed deeper into you, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too,” He murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “Fuck..fuck..I love you.”

Your eyes went wide at the confession, a deep moan spilling from your lips as you felt a wave crash over you, feeling David fill you moments later. You moved your hands to his neck, meeting his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

“I'm sorry,” He sighed, looking down. “I shouldn't have-this isn't the time..”

“No,” You insisted, a smile spreading on your face. “It's the perfect time. I love you, too.”

📷

“Mind if I get one of those?”

You turned around, letting out a sigh of relief as you spotted Kerry walking towards you. 

“Of course,” You smiled, taking the box of cigarettes from your purse and handing it over. “Thought you were David for a second.”

Kerry laughed as he accepted the box, shaking his head.

“Nah, your secret is safe with me. Just needed one huh?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, flicking away the ash. “I'm so nervous. I don't know why, it's not like I have to walk down the aisle in front of hundreds of people wearing this,” You raised a brow, gesturing to your dress.

As much as you adored Pam, and as thrilled as you were that she was getting married and had asked you to be her maid of honor, you did not exactly love the dress she had chosen. For a start, it was a mix of dusky pink and peach, the skirt was so big you wondered if you fit down the aisle, and the sleeves were almost the size of your head.

“I feel you,” Kerry nodded, looking down at himself as he lit his cigarette. “I think we all feel a little ridiculous. But you know the worst part?”

“Go on,” You smiled, lifting up the puffball that had slipped down your shoulder. “shock me.”

“I gotta do this three more times,” Kerry sighed, lightly prodding the flower attached to his suit. “At least you get to choose your wedding dress. I'm stuck in velvet hell.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking a drag on your cigarette. 

“Oh come on, it ain't so bad. I think I heard Mike say he would never have velvet.”

“Really?” Kerry raised a brow, looking over to you. 

“Promise,” You grinned, holding your hand over your heart. “He said he'd have velour.”

“Oh fuck off,” Kerry laughed, shaking his head and holding his hand out. “Gimme a mint and get out of here, I'll velour you.”

“I'd like to see you try,” You laughed, getting a mint from your purse and flicking your cigarette away before walking over to Kerry. “See you inside. Don't destroy that flower.”

📷

“Isn't she beautiful?” You smiled, watching Pam and Kevin sway on the dancefloor, smiles etched on their faces as they moved to the music. 

You felt the urge to take a photo, but a professional had been hired for the day. Pam had insisted she wanted you to be in the pictures, not the one behind the camera. You had been a little disappointed, but you gave her the photo you'd taken from when she and Kevin had first met, and her reaction made it all worth it.

“She really is,” Doris nodded, looking over to you and taking your hand with a smile. “And you will be too.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let me go get us another drink.”

You stood up, making your way over to the bar with a smile. While you and David weren't officially engaged, it was kind of an unspoken truth that when Pam and Kevin had gotten married, David would propose to you next. Kerry wasn’t seeing anyone, and while Mike was dating a girl, they had only been together a few weeks.

So, you knew you were next up.

As you waited for your drinks, you smiled as you felt a familiar presence by your side.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“Yes,” You grin, turning to face David and giving him a kiss. “But I don't mind hearing it again.”

As the song ended and a new one started up, more guests took to the floor.

“Should we go for a twirl?” David asked, gently stroking your cheek. “or maybe not quite a twirl, that dress will take out anyone who comes close,” He teased.

“Oh shut up,” You laughed, lightly swatting him. “I'm getting your mom a drink, if I don't take you out first.”

“I'll take it to her,” David smiled, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Then you owe me a dance.”

📷

So, here it is. 

The big day. 

You thought at times it would never come, but it's here. 

A lot has happened, of course. Weddings need buildup, after all. The guests can only talk about how beautiful you look and wonder who did the food for so long. You gotta give them something. 

So what's new? It's been a minute, a luxuriously long engagement. 

The Von Erichs have gone from strength to strength, reaching the top of the wrestling game. You still go see matches, when you can. They're global now, you always feel a rush of pride when you watch them on TV at some crazy hour.

Pam is a world class veterinarian, an incredible mother to the most gorgeous baby, and still the best friend in the world. 

Kevin won the WHC belt, is the most devoted husband, father, brother, brother-in-law and son. He and Pam keep saying they're going to buy a ranch in Hawaii for everyone to live in, and you like to think maybe it could be true.

Kerry insists he's your favorite brother-in-law, and you insist that you couldn't possibly choose a favorite but deep down you think he's most likely right. He makes you laugh the most, teases you and makes stupid jokes to cheer you up when you need it. The two of you have sneaky cigarettes and know what the other is thinking when you look at each other. 

Mike has just signed a recording contract with his band, and you tell him all the time he better come to you first with concert tickets. He's going to be the next one engaged, he's so loved up and it's adorable. 

Then there's David. 

The yellow rose who called up six different newspapers just to ask you out, who let you into his life, who loves you unconditionally and makes you so unbelievably happy that you wonder what you ever did without him. You would never have pursued your dreams without him and his family, that's something you know. And let's not forget his proposal, which was the most beautiful moment of your life.

David had taken you on a surprise trip one night, insisting that you were just going for a drive after you'd been out for dinner, but you knew it wasn't true. You found yourself at the lake, David's hand in yours as you walked down to the dock, which..was decorated with candles in jars, rose petals, a bottle of champagne sitting in ice. 

Knowing that you were marrying your soulmate, joining a family you loved deeply, it made you feel so safe, so secure. You quit your job, deciding to pursue your real passion. You bought a gallery in Dallas, and displayed your own work along with other local artists, including your soon to be mother in law. It took time, but it's become a success, and you don't care what any of them say, you couldn't have done it without your family.

Plenty for the guests to talk about, right?

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, Pam fixes your dress and you take a deep breath. Her dress is beautiful, and most importantly, simple. 

Before you know it you're walking down the aisle, your heart beating faster as hundreds of faces smile at you, but there's only one you need to see, and when you do it makes everything okay. 

You reach the top of the aisle, feeling overwhelmed with love, beaming as you turn to look at your soon to be husband.

“You know it's a bad habit to leave the bride with a veil over her face,” You grinned, watching David gently touch the hem of the silky veil and carefully move it back, a wide smile on his face.

“I do apologize,” He grinned. “Still gonna marry me?”

“Of course,” You smiled. “You look perfect from this angle.”

#the iron claw #the iron claw fic #the iron claw fanfiction #david von erich x reader #david von erich x you #harris dickinson #harris dickinson fanfic #harris dickinson x reader #harris dickinson x you

[joelsgreys]

snapshots | masterlist

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Moments of Joel Miller’s life in Jackson, Wyoming with his girls. warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE, she is a childbearing adult woman so do what you will with that information, however at one point it will be vaguely mentioned that she is younger than Joel. no physical description of reader. slight physical description of Rosemary (she has Joel’s hair color and type as well as his eye color). Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so. angst, fluff, some individual works centered around Joel and reader may also contain smut. please see individual fics for warnings and tags. *MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. a/n: i fell in love with this little family and would love to write more for them when the inspiration strikes, so i decided to just go ahead and make a masterlist for them. i have no specific plan, the drabbles and one shots will most likely not be in order. i may bounce around the timeline and even go as far back as to when joel and reader find out they’re going to have a kid. to those of you who have shown this universe some love, thank you! 🤍

flutter

When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

softness

Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

safe and sound

Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.

splash

You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.

divider credit to @saradika 🤎

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #ellie williams x platonic!reader #fic: snapshots #girldad! joel